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STUDIES    IN    DIDEROT'S 
ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 


BY 


FELIX  \'EXLER,  A.  M. 


Submitted  in  partial  fulfillment  of  the  requirements  for 

the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy  in  the  Faculty 

of  Philosophy,  Columbia  University 


NEW  YORK 
1022 


Copyright,  1922 

By  FELIX  VEXLER 

New  York 


PREFACE 

As  intiniated  in  \Vx  inliodiK-tory  cha|itor,  iliis  work  is 
part  of  a  larj^or  one  ilcxotcd  to  the  study  of  Diderot's  natural- 
ism as  exemplified  in  his  j^eneral  esthetic  as  well  as  to  his 
tlieories  concernin,^  the  arts  of  music,  dancing,  drama,  acting, 
painting,  sculpture  and  architecture. 

The  writer  wishes  to  express  his  heartfelt  thanks  to  Pro- 
fessor Dino  lligongiari  without  whose  encouragement  and 
advice  this  work  would  not  have  been  written ;  to  Professors 
I'>rnand  IJaldensperger  and  Anatole  Le  Braz,  who  guided  him 
in  the  preliminary  stages;  to  Professors  Henri  Chamard,  Ray- 
mond Weeks,  John  Lawrence  (ierig,  Robert  llerndon  Mfe, 
Charles  Sears  llaldwin,  Andre  Morize,  to  whom  he  is  indebted 
f(^r  criticism  or  information.  Professor  Frank  Wadleigh  Chand 
ler  has  read  and  i!-!i])roved  an  early  redaction  of  the  chapter 
on  Acting  and  llistorial  Tragedy,  while  Profes-or  Henry 
Alfred  Todd  has  made  certain  helpful  sui^gestions — ad  iiiajorejii 
anctoris  ijloriam.  Thanks  are  also  due  Miss  Dollie  Booth  Hep- 
burn, Mr.  h>ederic  W.  Krb  and  other  members  of  the  staff  of 
Columbia  l'ni\ersity  Librar}',  who  in  various  ways  have  facil- 
itated the  writer's  access  to  the  necessary  books.  With  regard 
to  books,  even  some  of  recent  date  were  not  obtainable,  at  least 
at  this  writing,  for  instance  M.  Joseph  Texte's  selections  from 
Diderot,  the  Russian  work  on  the  French  drama  and  eighteenth- 
century  philosophy  by  A.  Ivanov,  etc.  On  the  fly-leaf  of  Pro- 
fessor Hubert  Gillot's  Qucrclle  dcs  Ancieiis  ct  dcs  Modcrww 
(Paris,  Champion,  1914),  mention  is  made  of  another  work  of 
his,  entitled  Un  romantique  au  XVlIIc  siccle.  Dcitis  Diderot. 
Essai  sur  son  role  ct  son  influence  litteraircs  (Langres,  1913). 
Yet  all  efforts  to  procure  this  have  remained  fruitless. 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS 

In  Dc  rintcrprctation  de  la  Nature  Diderot  expressed  his 
conviction  that  a  great  scientific  "revolution"  was  impending; 
the  reign  of  mathematics  was  near  its  end;  that  of  natural 
science  was  about  to  begin.  And  indeed,  it  cannot  be  gainsaid 
that  during  his  Hfetime  rationahsm  yielded  to  naturalism  to  a 
considerable  extent.  To  realize  this  one  need  only  compare  the 
leading  ideas  of  Nature,  Reason  and  Humanity  as  understood 
in  the  seventeenth  and  again  in  the  eighteenth  century.  To 
begin  with,  Nature  acquired  transcendent  importance  as  it  came 
to  be  conceived  "as  endowed  with  autonomous  power  and 
reality  surpassing  the  powers  of  the  mind  and  tending  to  oppose 
God  himself."  The  Cartesian  notion  that  Nature  is  explained 
by  a  system  of  clear  ideas  was  now  attacked  on  every  side. 
Hylozoists,  materialists  and  spiritualists  all  united  in  holding 
that  the  relationships  between  things  and  phenomena  are  "not 
those  imagined  by  the  pure  understanding  left  to  itself;  for  now 
it  is  the  intellect  which  is  supposed  to  imagine,  while  experience 
yields  truth."  Instead  of  being  thought  of  as  "the  faculty  of 
immediately  possessing  notions  or  principles  from  which  all 
certain  knowledge  must  flow,"  Reason  now  became  the  faculty 
of  "consulting  experience  and  relying  on  it  alone.  So  that 
the  thing  which  above  all  was  to  be  interpreted  is  Nature — 
by  natural  means  and  natural  causes."  '  Humanity,  too,  no  long- 
er a  passive  substratum  of  pure  reason,  was  regarded  as  a 
part  of  Nature,  governed  by  laws  which  are  not  always  and  not 
wholly  those  of  the  intellect.  The  "systcmc  de  la  nature,"  of 
which  Diderot  was  the  most  gifted  as  well  as  perhaps  the  most 
enthusiastic  exponent,  sprang  from  the  conviction,  shared  by 
a  group  of  radical  "Philosophers"  and  "Encyclopedists,"  that 
observation  and  experiment  had  yielded  sufficient  data  for  the 
elaboration  and  practical  application  of  a  system  of  social 
physics  based  on  naturallaws,  and  therefore  intolerant  of  every- 

'  Victor  Delbos,  La  philosopMe  frangaise   (Paris,  1919),  p.  190  f., 
209  f. 


6  DlftEROt'S   ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

thing  that  is  artificial,  arbitrary,  inconsequent,  as  well  as 
abnormal  and  harmful  in  social  and  intellectual  life — a  program 
which  Diderot  enounced  as  follows: 

"La  veritable  maniere  de  philosopher  c'eiit  ete  et  ce 
serait  d'appliquer  I'entendement  a  Tentendement;  I'entende- 
ment  et  I'experience  aux  sens;  les  sens  k  la  nature;  la  nature 
a  rinvestigation  des  instruments;  les  Instruments  k  la  re- 
cherche et  a  la  perfection  des  arts,  qu'on  jetterait  au  peuple 
pour  lui  apprendre  a  respecter  la  philosophie."  - 

"Le  but  d'une  Encyclopedie  est  de  rassembler  les  con. 
naissances  eparses  sur  la  surface  de  la  terre,  d'en  exposer  le 
isysteme  aux  hommes  avec  qui  nous  vivons,  et  de  le  trans- 
mettre  aux  hommes  qui  viendront  apres  nous;  afin  que  les 
travaux  des  siecles  passes  n'aient  pas  ete  des  travaux  inutiles 
pour  les  siecles  qui  succederont;  que  nos  neveux,  devenant 
plus  instruits,  deviennent  en  meme  temps  plus  vertueux  et 
plus  heureux;  et  que  nous  ne  mourions  pas  sans  avoir  bien 
merite  du  genre  humain."^ 

The  scope  of  the  magna  instauratio  planned  by  these  phi- 
losophers extended  even  to  the  fine  arts."  The  grands  classiqnes, 
"gcomctrcs"  and  "beaux  esprits"  who  preceded  "les  philo- 
sophes"  had  upheld  the  notion  that  art  was  ancillary  to  reason 
and  truth;  that  it  must  "paint"  or  "imitate  nature"  or  "embel- 
lished nature."  To  be  sure,  this  the  "philosophcs"  reaffirmed 
and  loudly  called  for  the  "strict  imitation  of  nature"  and  the 
observance  in  art  of  "truth,"  which  is  of  "all  times  and  places." 
Yet  they  also  gave  the  doctrine  of  natural  imitation  a  turn 
which  was  previously  foreign  to  it,  save  perhaps  in  the  mind 
of  Fenelon.  For  whilst  the  "Nature"  spoken  of  by  the  Classi- 
cists coincided  with  what  Diderot  calls  "le  froid  bon  sens"  and 
"pesante  raison,"  that  invoked  by  the  "philosophes"  was,  as  we 
saw,  something  different  from  pure  "reason"  and  often  imper- 
vious to  it.  The  esthetic  doctrine  of  "return  to  nature"  which 
thanks  to  their  efforts  slowly  encroached  on  that  of  reasonable 
natural  imitation,  is  based  on  the  conception  of  nature  as  some- 

-  De    Vinteriirftation    de    la    nature    (1754),    in    his    CEuvres,    ed. 
Assezat  and  Tourneux,  Vol.   ii,  p.   19. 

'Article  "Encyclopedie"   (CEuvres.  xiv,  415). 
*  Cf.   art.    ''Encyclopedie"    (CEuvres,   xiv,   474). 


INTRODUCTION  7 

thing  changeable,  impulsive,  impassioned  and  withal  intolerant 
of  "h's  coin'cnaiices"  and  "Ic  )iiOihis."  Accordingly,  "reason," 
hitherto  considered  as  the  chief  esthetic  organ,  began  to  be 
subordinated  to  "genius,"  "imagination,"  "taste"  or  "sentiment." 
The  preface  which  d'Alembert  wrote  for  the  Encyclopedic 
marks  the  official  abandonment  by  the  Encyclopedists  of  strict 
objectivism  in  esthetic  and  a  step  in  the  direction  of  expression- 
ism and  subjectivism,  or  Romanticism. 

The  studies  of  which  we  now  offer  a  first  series  seek  to 
establish  the  fact  that  Diderot  strove  to  conciliate  the  old 
esthetic  of  Classicist  or  Academicist  origin  and  the  theoretical 
and  practical  consequences  of  the  new  "systcme  de  la  nature". 
This  reconciliation  was  not  completely  effected  and  Diderot's 
"metaphysic  of  art"  remained  dualistic.  Tt  certainly  is  not 
idealistic  since  its  main  concern  is  nature  "as  it  is";  nor  is  it 
merely  realistic  since  it  looks  upon  nature  as  largely  "contorted" 
and  therefore  an-esthetic.  Rather  is  it  ideo-realistic,  inasmuch 
as  it  presupposes  that  the  disparity  between  Art  and  Nature 
is  to  be  overcome  when  the  "natural  estate"  shall  be  actualized. 
The  artist  as  conceived  by  Diderot  is  a  sociological  and  Ency- 
clopedic virtuoso,  capable  of  conjuring  up  vivid  representations 
of  the  conflict  between  the  urgings  of  nature  and  the  "miserable 
conventions"  enforced  by  secular  and  religious  despotism,  and 
of  preparing  humanity  for  the  salutary  "revolution"  that  is  to 
culminate  in  the  great  Utopia. 

An  impressionable  mind  like  Diderot's  was  alive  to  all  the 
opposing  tendencies  of  a  changing  age.  It  is  not  strange,  there- 
fore, that  his  esthetic  vacillates  between  subjectivism  and 
objectivism,  rationalism  and  emotionalism,  realism  and  idealism, 
or,  if  you  will,  Classicism  and  Romanticism.  This  dismays 
critics  who  like  clearcut  and  inflexible  classifications.  r)ut  it 
is  not  true  (as  it  is  hoped  the  quotations  that  constitute  the 
substance  of  our  studies  will  demonstrate),  that  Diderot's  ideas 
are  hopelessly  inconsistent.  As  Karl  Rosenkranz  has  said,  for 
all  his  being  undialectic,  Diderot  is  not  illogical. 

To  guard  against  the  danger  of  introducing  an  artificial 
semblance  of  order   in   an   author  whose   contradictoriness   and 


8  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NAURALISM 

confusion  are  proverbial,  each  topic  was  studied  by  itself  and 
was  associated  with  other  topics  only  when  the  example  of  Di- 
derot authorized  this.  The  esthetic  of  music,  for  instance,  was 
studied  in  conjunction  with  that  of  lyric  drama,  dancing  and 
pantomime,  whilst  acting  was  considered  together  with  historic 
tragedy  and  painting  with  sculpture.^  Again,  the  realm  of  plastic 
arts  was  somewhat  encroached  upon  when  Diderot's  conception 
of  the  dramtaic  poem  was  considered.  It  goes  without  saying 
that  due  (thought  not  superstitious)  respect  was  paid  to  the 
chronology  of  Diderot's  utterances.  This  method  entails  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  repetition,  but  this  very  fact  yields  incon- 
trovertible evidence  of  the  congruity  of  Diderot's  esthetic 
thought. 

The  writer  does  not  for  the  present  intend  to  go  beyond 
a  presentation  of  Diderot's  ideas  concerning  artistic  imitation 
of  nature  in  drama  and  tragedy.  He  cheerfully  refrains  from 
sitting  in  judgment  on  an  author  who  is  still  too  "modern"  to 
be  regarded  as  "classc."  The  study  of  Diderot  "as  a  career 
in  time,"  as  a  center  to  which  converged  a  world  of  esthetic 
thought  and  from  which  emanated  another  and  better  one,  he 
is  content  to  leave  to  a  future  work. 

Unless  otherwise  specified,  the  references  are  to  the  vol- 
umes and  pages  of  the  Assezat  and  Tourneux  edition  of 
Diderot's  works.  Whenever  necessary  or  useful  to  the  argu- 
ment, they  are  followed  by  the  titles  and  dates  of  the  particular 
works  quoted. 

'  The  writer  hopes  to  be  able  to  publish  his  studies  of  Diderot's 
esthetic  of  the  musical  and  plastic  arts  in  the  near  future. 


THE  DRAMATIC  POEM  AND  THE  "DRAME" 


THE   NEW   DRAMATIC   SYSTEM 

The  \ast  scope  of  the  dramatic  changes  sponsored  by  the 
leader  of  the  Encyclopedic  Party  may  be  gauged  by  the  program 
he  outlined  in  1757,  in  the  Troisicnic  cntrctien  sur  le  Fils 
naturcl : 

"La    tragedie   domestique   et   bourgeoise   a   creer. 

Le  genre  serieux  k  perfectionner. 

Les  conditions  de  I'homme  a  substituer  aux  caracteres,  peut- 

etre  dans  tons  les  genres. 
La  pantomime  a  lier  etroitement  avec  Taction   dramatique. 
La  scene  a  changer,  et  les   tableaux  a   substituer  aux   coups 

de  theatre. . . 
La  tragedie  reelle  a  introduire  sur  le  theatre  lyrique. 
Enfin,    la    danse    a    reduire    et    a    separer    de    tout    autre    art 

d'imitation"   (vii,  161). 

The  most  important  innovation  in  this  new  "dramatic  sys- 
tem" is  the  creation  of  "domestic  tragedy"  and  the  improvement 
of  "serious  comedy,"  two  kindred  prose  genres  dealing  with 
home  and  professional  life,  preferably  as  exemplified  in  morally 
meritorious  actions,  with  a  view  to  inculcating  "philosophic" 
reflexions  and  inducing  emotional  effects,  adequate  to  the 
tribulations  of  the  dramatic  characters  and  the  magnitude  of  the 
social  issues  at  stake,  and  ranging  from  a  sober  state  of  mind 
analogous  to  that  assumed  in  serious  affairs  {"comedie  seri- 
euse,"  "genre  serieux")  to  pity  and  terror  ("tragedie  domestique 
et  bourgeoise").  The  sequel  will  add  several  details  to  this 
definition.  For  the  present  we  shall  quote,  from  the  preface 
which  Diderot  wrote  for  Trudaine  de  Montigny's  translation 
of  Lessing's  Miss  Sara  Sampson  (T762V,  a  few  lines  which,  in 
succinct  form,  contain  the  esthetic  motivation  of  the  two  new 
dramatic  kinds : 

". . .  Enfin,   il  vient  un  homme  de  genie  qui   congoit  qu'il 
n'y  a  plus  de  ressource  que  dans  I'infraction   de  ces  bornes 


10-  •  . 'Dfr>E]:lOTS   ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

etroites  que  I'habitude  et  la  petitesse  d'esprit  ont  raises  a 
I'art.  L'un  dit:  mais  puisque  les  caracteres  sont  epuises 
dans  la  comedie,  pourquoi  ne  pas  se  jeter  sur  les  conditions? 
Mais  quoi  done?  le  ridicule  est-il  le  seul  ton  de  la  comedie? 
Pourquoi  n'y  mettrait-on  pas  des  actions  honnetes  et  ver- 
tueuses?  est-ce  que  ces  actions  n'ont  pas  lieu  dans  la  societe? 
Pourquoi  ne  rapprocherait-on  pas  davantage  les  moeurs  tliea- 
trales  des  moeurs  domsetiques?  Dans  la  tragedje,  on  fait  le 
meme  raisonnement.  On  dit:  mais  on  n'a  mis  jusqu'a  pre- 
sent sur  la  scene  que  des  rols,  des  princes.  Pourquoi  n'y 
mettrait-on  des  particuliers?  Quoi  done?  N'y  a-t-il  que  la 
condition  souveraine  qui  soit  exposee  a  ces  revers  terribles, 
qui  inspirent  la  commiseration  ou  I'horreur?  Et  I'on  fait  des 
tragedies   bourgeoises"    (viii,   440). 

This  statement  is  important  because  it  sliows  that  the 
motives  which  prompted  Diderot's  artistic  campaign  were  of  a 
composite  nature.  Accordingly,  in  the  Entrctiens  already  men- 
tioned as  in  the  treatise  Dc  la  Poesie  dramatique,  which  is  its 
sequel,  Diderot  appears  bent  on  several  purposes,  viz.,  to  com- 
mend the  new  drama  to  the  attention  of  those  who  yearned 
for  new  esthetic  sensations  and  thus  pave  the  way  for  artistic 
freedom ;  to  proclaim  its  social  utility  and,  incidentally,  take  up 
the  cudgels  for  the  hitherto  despised  inhabitants  of  Rue  Tique- 
tonnc;  finally,  to  validate  the  legitimacy  of  the  new  theatre  by 
showing  that  it  always  holds  the  mirror  up  to  nature  and  truth. 
We  shall  now  scrutinize  these  efforts. 

II 

DIDEROT  PRESENTED  "LE  DRAME"  AS  AN  AUTONOMOUS 
GENRE  IN  ORDER  TO  CONCEAL  HIS  INTENTION  TO  ESTAB- 
LISH   IT     ON     THE     RUINS     OP    THE     PRIVILEGED     "SYSTEM" 

There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that,  at  the  particular 
period  we  are  concerned  with,  Diderot  dealt  with  the  stage  in 
a  thoroughly  revolutionary  frame  of  mind.  No  compromise 
was  countenanced  by  the  man  who  wrote  in  1758  to  ]\Ime  Ric- 
coboni :  "Ma  premiere  et  ma  seconde  piece  forment  un  system? 
d'action  theatrale  dont  il  ne  s'agit  pas  de  chicaner  un  endroit. 
mais  qu'il  faut  adopter  ou  rejeter  en  entier;"  and  "Tenez,  mon 


"LE    DRAME"  11 

amie,  je  n'ai  pas  etc  dix  fois  au  speclaclo  dcpuis  tiuinzc  ans. 
Le  faux  de  tout  ce  cpii  s'y  fait  me  tue." '  The  burthen  of 
Diderot's  letter  is  that  no  compromise  should  be  entered  upon 
between  the  old  order  of  things  dramatic  and  the  new,  but  that 
on  the  contrary,  the  old  conventions  should  make  room  for  the 
dictates  of  reason.  This  is  the  very  program  of  action  he  had 
ujiheld   in   the  article   "Encyclopedic''    {^7S^) '• 

"II  faut  fouler  aux  pieds  toutes  ces  vieilles  pu^rilites. 
renverser  les  barriSres  que  la  raison  n'aura  point  posees, 
rendre  aux  sciences  et  aux  arts  une  liberie  qui  leur  est  si 
precieiise.  et  dire  aux  admirateurs  de  I'antiquite:  Appelez  le 
Man-hand  de  Londrcs-  comme  il  vous  plaira,  pourvu  que  vous 
conveniez  que  cette  piece  etincelle  de  beautes  sublimes" 
(xiv,  474  ff.) 

^'et  in  order  to  overcome  the  public's  antagonism  to  artistic 
radicalism,  Diderot  was  careful  to  have  it  appear  that  "le 
dramc"  (to  designate  Diderot's  "systeme  d'action  theatrale"  by 
the  name  given  to  it  by  friends  and  foes  alike)  added  to,  with- 
out encroaching  upon,  the  established  and  privileged  "system" 
of  which  tragedy  and  comedy  were  the  mainstays.  Fontenelle' 
had  made  use  of  the  Leibnizian  principle  of  continuity,  which 
found  so  much  favor  with  the  estheticians  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  to  preconize  a  "dramatic  scale"  or  spectrum,  extending 
from  the  genre  burlesque  to  heroic  tragedy,  and  a  corresponding 
gradation  of  emotions — "le  plaisant  et  le  ridicule,"  "le  pitoyable 
et  le  tendre,"  "le  terrible  et  le  grand"  as  well  as  their  amal- 
gamation. In  this  fashion  he  was  able  to  justify  the  comedy 
of  sensibility,  the  theatre  hnnoyant  in  which  "le  pitoyable  et 
le  tendre"  were  mingled  with  the  emotions  of  tragedy  and 
comedy.  More  conservative  than  Fontenelle,  at  least  in  appear- 
ance, Diderot  does  not  openly  vindicate  the  mingled  emotions, 
but  instead,  quoting  Aristotle  to  the  effect  that  in  things  moral 
there  always  is  a  mean  between  extremes,  concludes  that  the 
"tone"   of   serious   comedy   must   needs   stand    midway   between 

*vii.  405,  400. 

"  Lillo's   London    Merchant:    first    French    trans..    174S. 

•'' Fontenelle,    "Preface    generale"    in    CEuvres    (1754),    t.    vii,    p.    5. 


12  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

the  mirth  of  the  old  comic  genre  and  the  pathos  of  tragedy. 
The  drama  thus  obtains  a  niche  of  its  own  in  which  it  could 
not  be  accused  of  molesting  the  genres  of  Moliere  and  Racine. 
Diderot  was  not  alone  in  this  belief.*  Freron,  to  choose  a  name 
from  among  the  foes  of  the  Encyclopedists,  was  of  the  same 
mind  when  he  said:  "Le  sentiment  nous  a  ouvert  une  route 
inconnue  a  Moliere.  Nos  genres  sont  tout  a  fait  distingues ; 
nous  ne  denaturons  rien,  nous  creons."' 

As  set  forth  in  the  manifestos  of  1757-58,  the  extremities 
of  the  dramatic  scale  are  formed  by  two  genres  that  have  no 
foundation  in  reality,  the  disreputable  burlesque"  (herein 
Diderot  agrees  with  Boileau),  and  the  "merveilleux,"  which  is 
exemplified  in  the  conventional  operatic  libretto.  Between 
them,  lie  the  two  "real"  boundaries  of  dramatic  art,  comedy 
and  tragedy  proper.  These  are  legitimate  poetic  kinds,  not  only 
because  founded  on  truth  and  nature,  but  also  because  of  their 
"honnctcte"  and  social  utility.  (Need  we  be  reminded  of  the 
fact  that  comedy  ridicules  vice  and  tragedy  holds  up  to  nations 
and  their  rulers  the  edifying  spectacle  of  public  catastrophes 
and  princely  misfortunes?)'  It  is  obvious  that  the  middle  por- 
tion of  the  scale  rightfully  belongs  to  Ic  drame,  because  of  its 
tone,  which,  as  has  been  already  stated,  is  intermediate  between 
that  of  comedy  and  tragedy;  because  of  the  fact,  which  will 
be  later  dwelt  upon,  that  it  "generalizes"  more  than  comedy 
and  less  than  tragedy;  and  on  account  of  its  realism  and,  we 
are  tempted  to  add,  its  prosaicism  and  honnctcte,  qualities  in 
which  the  new  drama  surpassed  both  its  predecessors.  There 
are  also  other  reasons,  such  as  its  proportion  of  "action"  and 
"movement."  *  The  following  outline  of  the  classification  of 
dramatic  genres  forms  a  scheme  which  is  not  without  analogy 
to  the  cholne  des  ctrcs  so  popular  with  Diderot  and  the  natural- 
ists of  the  eighteenth  century: 

*  Thus,  among  others,  L.  Riccoboni,  apropos  of  the  comedy  of 
sensibility.  (Letter  to  Muratori,  May  30,  1737,  cited  by  A.  Eloesser, 
Das  biirc/erliche  Drama,  p.   64). 

°  Freron,  Lettres  sur  guelgues  ecrits  de  ce  temps,  iv,  letter  I. 

'vii,   135  f.  'vii,  308  f.  *  Cf.  vii,  318. 


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14  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

But,  Diderot  might  have  been  asked,  Why  create  a  new 
genre  and  not  rest  satisfied  with  an  admixture  to  fill  in  the 
gap  between  tragedy  and  comedy?  By  way  of  answer,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  argument  from  authority  and  example  (for  he  claimed 
that  his  genre  was  originated  by  ]\Ienander  and  Terence),* 
Diderot  again  appealed  to  the  principle  of  continuity.  Thus 
he,  too,  might  have  laughed,  with  Voltaire  in  Ic  Pauvre  diable, 

Aux  vains  efforts  d'un  auteur  amphibie, 
Qui  defigure  et  qui  brave  a  la  fois, 
Dans   son  jargon,   Melpomene   et   Thalie. 

In  the  name  of  the  law  of  continuity  and  unity,  Diderot 
condemned,  along  with  most  of  the  theatre  larmoyant,  heroic 
comedy  and  tragicomedy  {genres  in  which  Diderot  should  have 
acknowledged  more  than  one  precursor),  as  well  as  the  still 
more  objectionable  tragiburlesque,  exemplified  to  his  mind  in 
Otway's  Veniee  saved  and  in  Hamlet,  false  genres'"  which 
admixed  disparate  sentiments  (to  say  nothing  of  their  admitting 
banter  and  caricature  to  the  stage  of  the  "honnetes  gens"). 
Diderot,  who  is  in  so  many  respects  the  prime  mover  of  Roman- 
ticist drama,  would  not  have  tolerated  (at  least  officially)  the 
systematic  juxtaposition  of  the  grotesque  and  terrible  and  would 
have  relegated  the  author  of  Rny  Bias  to  the  theatres  of  the 
Fairs  and  Boulevards,  or  sentenced  him  to  continue  the  decrepit 
operatic  genre  which  had  been  once  illustrated  by  Quinault  and 
La  :\Iotte. 

Not  that  Diderot  frowned  upon  every  attempt  to  introduce 
laughter  in  the  drama."  To  picture  Diderot  as  a  dramaturgic 
Jansenist  is  as  wrong  as  to  state,  with  certain  authors  of  literary 
manuals,    that    he    advocated    the    mingling    ad    libitum    of    the 


=  v,  230  f.;  vii,  135;  cf.  Corr.  lift.,  vii,  413.     V.  Ernest  Bernbaum, 
The  drama  of  sensibility   (Boston,  1915),  ch.  II. 
"'vii,  137,  374. 

"  Contra,  F.  Gaiffe,  Le  drame  en  France  au  XVIIIe  siecle   (Paris, 
1910),  p.  450. 


•LE   URAME"  15 

» 

serious  ami  comic.'''  Diderot  himself  owns  ihai  the  J-'ils  iiaturel 
"a  iuesc|ue  ete  fait  dans  les  trois  genres"  (as  "une  piece  ne 
s'enferme  jamais  a  hi  rii:[ueur  dans  un  genre"),  and  could  be 
turned  into  a  comedy  or  neo-tragedy  without  anv  change  what- 
soever in  its  first  acts,  lie  says  of  tlie  ideal  author  of  a  dramc 
philosophiquc,  "A  chaijue  instant  il  doit  amener  le  ris  sur  le 
bord  des  levres,  et  les  larmes  aux  yeux.  Je  mourrais  content 
si  j'avais  rempli  cette  tache  comme  je  la  conc^ois." '"  ,\gain, 
speaking  of  the  dramatic  Messiah  for  whom  he  prayed  all  his 
life  and  who  was  to  "renew  the  phenomena  of  ancient  tragedy." 
Diderot  uttered  the  following  significant  words: 

"lis  [scU..  the  phenomena  of  the  ancient  theatre]  atten- 
dent,  pour  se  montrer,  un  homme  de  genie  qui  sache  com- 
biner la  pantomime  avec  le  discours,  entremeler  une  scene 
parlee  avec  une  scene  muette,  et  tirer  parti  de  la  reunion  des 
deux  scenes,  et  surtout  de  I'approche  ou  terrible  ou  comique 
de  cette  reunion  qui   se   ferait  toujours"    (vii,   116). 

When  we  reflect  that  the  "comique"  whereof  Diderot  speaks 
is  to  occur  in  a  tragedy  intended  to  bring  "trouble  and  horror"' 
to  the  minds  of  the  audience ;  when  we  catch  him  con- 
ceding his  fondness,  "dans  I'epique,  dans  I'ode  et  dans  quelques 
genres  de  poesie  elevee,"  for  the  contrast  of  sentiments  and 
images  and  his  admiration  for  "I'art  de  porter  dans  Tame  des 
sensations  extremes  et  oj)posees" ;  when  we  witness  his  noting 
with  satisfaction  that,  in  a  certain  English  i)lay,  "(  'n  rit  et  Ton 
est  alternativement  attendri"  '" — we  may  be  sure  that  he  was  not 
intolerant,  even  in  the  drama,  of  the  mingling  of  pathos  and 
mirth,  of  the  "trcssaillement  mele  de  peine  et  de  plaisir,  d'amer- 
tume  et  de  douceur,  de  douceur  et  d'effroi." 

We  should  be  undulv  severe  if  we  accused  Diderot  of  con- 
tradiction  in   this  connection.      In   all   likelihood    Diderot   would 

"  Brunetiere  (Les  cpoques  du  thrOtre  franrnis,  Paris,  1S93, 
p.  230)  distinguishes  between  the  "fusion"  and  "mingling"  of  genres. 
This  distinction  is  not  clearly  sanctioned  by  Diderot's  theory;  it 
nevertheless  seems  to  hold   in  the   main. 

"vii,  315.  '^  vii,  352. 

"viii,  466.    (Of  Hugh   Kelly's   False  delicacy). 


16  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

have  reconciled  his  proscribing  the  melange  des  genres  with  his 
legitimizing  the  use  of  mixed  comic  and  tragic  moments  by 
means  of  the  proviso  that  only  as  much  of  the  melange  was 
licit  as  did  not  interfere  with  the  unity  of  impression.  At  least, 
this  is  a  natural  inference  from  the  following  remark  in  the 
Troisieme  entretien :  "Les  nuances  empruntees  du  genre  co- 
mique  sont-elles  trop  fortes?  'L'ouvrage  fera  rire  et  pleurer, 
et  il  n'aura  plus  ni  unite  d'interet,  ni  unite  de  coloris". '°  Diderot 
might  have  gone  even  further,  perhaps,  and  answered  in  the 
affirmative  the  question,  "Si  le  comique  pathetique  n'a  pas  son 
charme  particulier,  n'est  pas  plus  vrai  et  peut-etre  plus  interes- 
sant  que  le  comique  ordinaire."  But  on  this  point  we  must 
content  ourselves  with  mere  conjecture. 

Another  difficulty  concerning  the  relationship  of  the 
"drama"  to  the  other  genres  presents  itself  when  Diderot 
im.prudently  calls  attention  to  the  possibility  of  several  links 
between  the  old  system  and  the  new. 

"J'ai  essaye  de  donner,  dans  le  Fils  naturel,  I'idee  d'un 
drame  qui  fut  entre  la  comedie  et  la  tragedle.  Le  Pere  de 
famille,  que  je  promis  alors,  et  que  des  distractions  con- 
tinuelles  ont  retarde,  est  entre  le  genre  serieux  du  Fils 
naturel.  et  la  comedie.  Et  si  jamais  j'en  ai  le  lolsir  et  le 
courage,  je  ne  desespere  pas  de  composer  un  drame  qui  se 
place  entre  le  genre  serieux  et  la  tragedie"   (vii,  308.) 

Diderot  here  points  to  his  plays,  written  and  projected,"  in 
order  to  demonstrate  "que  I'intervalle  que  j'apercevais  entre 
les  deux  genres  etablis  n'etait  pas  chimerique."  But  he  proves 
too  much,  as  the  admission  of  transitional  dramatic  forms 
favored  the  argument  of  those  for  whom  the  genre  serieux  was 
a  special  kind  of  comedy.  Yet  this  last  was  not  the  opinion 
of  Diderot,  who  held  that  the  "drama"  was  a  true  genre  admit- 
ting of  little  intermixture  with  the  other  dramatic  kinds :  "Les 
petites  nuances  qu'il  [the  genre  in  question]  empruntera  d'un 
genre    collateral    seront    trop    faibles    pour    le    deguiser." "      In 

'"Cf.  vii,  13S,  135  f.  and  Grimm's  Corresp.  lift.,  viii,  319  f.   (April 
1st,  1769). 

^'vii,  136.  '^vii.,  136. 


"LE  DRAME"  17 

fact,  lie  was  as  nuu"li  annoyed  l)y  the  conscrxatism  wliicli  for- 
bade the  adoption  of  new  f(M-ms  of  art  as  by  the  hberaHsm 
which  was  blind  to  ihoir  rcNokitionary  character:  "S'il  existe 
iin  genre  il  est  difficile  d'en  introduire  un  nouveau.  L"elui-ci 
est-il  introduit?  Autre  prejuge:  bientot  on  imagine  que  les 
deux  genres  adoptes  sont  voisins  et  se  touchent." '"' 

Are  we  to  conclude  that  Diderot  faced  a  logical  inipassc? 
And  how  shall  we  account  for  his  predicament?  As  often 
hajijiens,  the  way  out  of  one  difficulty  suggests  itself  in  wres- 
tling with  anolher  one.  llitlierto  we  had  assumed,  on  the 
strength  of  Hiderot's  emi)loying  the  terms  "draiiic  scricux"  and 
"tragcdic  douiestiquc"  interchangeably  whenever  he  illustrates 
the  poetics  of  the  new  theatre,  that  the  two  constitute  together 
a  single  genre,  the  "draiiie"  par  excellence.  A  further  assump- 
tion, which  received  graphic  expression  in  our  outline  of  the 
"dramatic  scale"  in  this  sub-chapter,  was  that  the  "genre  scri- 
cux," rather  than  boitrgeoisc  tragedy,  was  typical  of  the  whole. 
This  second  assumption  must  be  modified,  however,  in  the  light 
of  such  utterances  as  the  following: 

"Le  genre  serieux.  .  .penche  plutot  vers  la  tragedie  que 
vers  la  comedie"   (vii,  13S). 

"Pendant  que  Dorval  parlait  ainsi,  jo  faisais  une  refle- 
xion singuliere.  C'est  comment,  a  I'occasion  d'une  aventure 
domestlque  qu'il  avait  mise  en  comedie,  il  etablissait  des  pre- 
ceptes  communs  a  tons  les  genres  dramatiques,  et  etait  tou- 
j(nirs  cntraine  par  sa  melancolie  a  ne  les  appliquer  quW 
la   tragedie"    (vii,   119). 

"La  tragedie  domestique  aurait . .  .  I'effet  de  la  tragedie 
a  produire"    (vii,   332). 

This  last  statement  may  be  compared  with  what  Oidcrot 
says,  in  a  letter  of  December  20,  iJ^^S,  apropos  of  Sedaine's 
Philosophe  sans  le  savoir:  "Ce  sont  les  terreurs  de  la  t  age  li-^ 
produites  avec  les  moyens  de  I'opera  comique.'""     Further,  witli 

'*vii,  308.     This  may  explain  in  part  his  reticence  concerning  La 
Cliaussee's  drama. 
'"xix.  213. 


18  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

a  passage,  most  likely  written  by  Diderot,  in  Grimm's  Corres- 
pondancc  litteraire : 

"J'imagine  un  genre  de  coraedie  bien  plus  tragique,  si 
Ton  peut  parler  ainsi,  que  le  larmoyant . . .  Una  telle  comedie 
bien  conduite  serait  plus  dans  la  nature  que  la  plupart  de 
nos  tragedies  et  j'ai  dans  la  tete  qu'elle  produirait  des  effets 
etonnants."  ^^ 

And  so  we  must  ask,  How  can  domestic  tragedy  be  spoken 
of  as  an  intermediate  genre  when  it  aims  to  duplicate  the  effect 
of  tragedy,  that  is  to  say,  appear  not  merely  as  "serious"  and 
touching,  but  even  as  "terrible"? 

Happily,  in  the  Troisieme  Entretien,  Diderot  dropped  the 
mask  of  conservatism  to  the  extent  of  suggesting  that  the  new 
drama-tragedy  was  radically  different   from  the  old: 

"On  dit  qu'il  n'y  a  plus  de  grandes  passions  tragiques  a 
emouvoir;  qu'il  est  impossible  de  presenter  les  sentiments 
d'une  maniere  neuve  et  frappante.  Cela  peut  etre  dans  la 
tragedie,  telle  que  les  Grecs,  les  Romains,  les  Frangais,  les 
Italiens,  les  Anglais  et  tons  les  autres  peuples  de  la  terre 
Font  composee.  Mais  la  tragedie  domestique  aura  une  autre 
action,  un  autre  ton,  et  un  sublime  qui  lui  sera  propre"  ■' 
(vii,  146). 

To  him  who  reads  between  the  lines  last  quoted,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  our  author  already  held  the  belief  which  he  explicitly 
stated  only  much  later,  in  the  Paradoxc  siir  le  comcdicn,  viz., 
that  a  new  tragedy  was  destined  to  supplant  the  old,  and  not 
merely  to  supplement  it.  The  two  could  not  stand  together, 
for  "Le  systeme  dramatique  le  plus  mal  entendu,  serait  celui 
qu'on  pourrait  accuser  d'etre  moitie  vrai  et  moitie  faux.  Cast 
un  mensonge  maladroit,  ou  certaines  circonstances  me  decelent 
I'impossibilite  du  reste.""  The  tactics  of  Diderot  thus  appear 
to  have  been,  first,  to  commend  the  serious  genre  as  an  addition 
to  the  existing  dramatic  kinds ;  then,  upon  its  gaining  accept 
tance,  to  use  it  as  an  entering  wedge  for  boitrgeoise  tragedy; 
finally,  to  relegate  heroic  tragedy  to  the  outer  and  "marvellous" 

"Corr.  Utt.,  ii,  334   (April  1st.  1754). 
^=vii,  374. 


"LE  DRAME"  19 

fringe  of  the  dramatic  scale,  and  in  its  former  place  to  enthrone 
the  historic  drama.  It  is  the  same  tactics  he  preconized  in 
connection  with  the  operatic  revolution.  Thus,  albeit  by  revo- 
lutionary dialectics,  we  at  last  find  an  answer  to  the  difficulties 
we  have  noted  in  Diderot's  theory.  Whatever  we  may  think 
of  his  tactics,  we  must  concede  to  Diderot  that  there  is  no 
real  contradiction  between  his  presenting  the  "drama"  as  a 
postulate  of  the  dramatic  regime  then  in  force,  and  at  the  same 
time  considering  it  as  a  true  autonomous  genre,  and  one  admit- 
ting no  intermixing  with  the  older  dramatic  kinds.  If  there 
v>-as  a  contradiction  anywhere,  Diderot  would  have  placed  it  in 
the  old  dramatic  regime  itself,  and  held  the  "drama"  to  be  all 
the  more  "true"  for  disclosing  the  fatal  weakness  of  the  privi- 
leged "system". 

Ill 

POLITICAL    ENDS    OF    DIDEROT'S    DRAMATURGY. 
ITS   SOCIAL  UTILITY 

The  new  drama  of  which  Diderot  was  the  theoretician  has 
been  defined  by  its  latest  historian,  M.  Gaiffe,  as  a  "genre 
nouveau  cree  par  le  parti  philosophique  pour  attendrir  et  mora- 
liser  la  bourgeoisie  et  le  peuple  en  leur  presentant  un  tableau 
de  leurs  propres  aventures  et  de  leur  propre  milieu."^  This 
definition  gives  proper  emphasis  to  the  fact  that  the  "drame" 
was  above  everything  else  a  vehicle  for  philosophic  propa- 
ganda. Yet  Diderot  w^as  none  too  anxious  to  dwell  publicly  on 
its  potentialities  as  an  instrument  of  social  and  political  action 
by  a  radical  party.  Instead,  he  loved  to  descant  in  more  or  less 
traditional  fashion  on  the  social  fvmction  of  the  playwright. 
In  the  article  Encyclopcdie,  for  instance,  we  read:  "C'est 
manquer  son  but  que  d'amuser  et  de  plaire  quand  on  pent 
instruire  et  toucher."'  The  end  or  one  of  the  ends  of  the 
dramatic  poet,  we  read  in  De  la  Poes'ie  dramatique ,  is  to  "faire 

'  F.  Gaiffe,  Le  drame  en  France  au  xviiie  siecle,  p.  78.  Contra. 
W.  T.  Peirce,  The  bourgeois  from  Molifre  to  BeaumarcJiais  (Colum- 
bus, 0.,  1907),  p.  71,  etc. 

=  xiv,  495. 


20  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

aimer  la  vertu  et  hair  le  vice."  ^  The  drama,  he  wrote  to  Mme 
Riccoboni,  must  pursue  "un  but  moral  par  I'imitation  de  la 
nature."^  Therefore,  a  great  poet  must  also  be  a  moralist;  so 
much  the  better  if  the  moralist  is  a  good  man: 

"Si  vous  etes  bien  ne,  si  la  nature  vous  a  donne  un 
esprit  doit  et  un  coeur  sensible,  fuyez  pour  un  temps  la  so- 
ciete  des  homnies;  allez  vous  etudier  vous-meme.  Comment 
I'instrument  rendra-t-il  une  juste  harmonie,  s'il  est  desac- 
corde?  Paites-vous  des  notions  exactes  des  choses;  comparez 
votre  conduite  avec  vos  devoirs;  rendez-vous  homme  de  bien 
et  ne  croyez  pas  que  ce  travail  et  ce  temps  si  bien  employes 
pour  riiomme  soient  perdus  pour  I'auteur.  II  rejaillira  de 
la  perfection  morale  que  vous  aurez  etablie  dans  votre  carac- 
tere  et  dans  vos  mceurs,  une  nuance  de  grandeur  et  de  justice 
qui   se   repandra   sur   tout   ce   que   vous   ecrirez"    (vii,   389    f.) 

To  the  moral  possibilities  of  the  stage  must  be  added  the 
political.  "Tout  peuple  a  des  prejuges  a  detruire,  des  vices  a 
poursuivre,  des  ridicules  a  decrier,  et  a  besoin  de  spectacles- 
mais  qui  lui  soient  propres.  Quel  moyen,  si  le  gouvernement 
en  sait  user,  et  qu'il  salt  preparer  le  changement  d'une  loi  et 
I'abrogation  d'un  usage." '  How  much  good  could  be  accom- 
plished, exclaimed  Diderot,  if  the  government  would  collaborate 
with  dramatic  artists  and  especially  with  the  philosophers.*  With 
evident  pride  he  tells  us,  in  the  Paradoxe  sur  le  comcdicn,  that 
"lorsque  je  donnai  Ic  Pcrc  de  famille,  le  magistrat  de  la  police 
m'exhorta  a  suivre  ce  genre."'  In  fact,  as  early  as  1757,  re- 
membering a  lesson  from  Shaftesbury,  he  made  bold  to  suggest 
a  partnership  with  the  administration,  which  the  comic  writers 
might  successfully  defend  against  the  aggression  of  "fanatics," 
that  is  to  say,  Jesuits  and  Jansenists,  and  perhaps  dangerous 
political  and  economic  radicals. 

"Qu'est-ce  qu'Aristophane?  Un  farceur  original.  Un 
auteur  de  cette  espece  doit  etre  precieux  pour  le  gouverne- 
ment, s'il  sait  I'employer.     C'est  a  lui   qu'il   faut  abandonner 

=  vii,  313;   cf.  146,  108  f.  "  Cf.  viii,  3S8  ff. 

=  vii,  313.  "vii,  108,  313.  'viii,  401. 


"LE  DRAME"  21 

tons  les  enthousiastes  qui  troublent  de  temps  en  temps  la 
sociote.  Si  on  les  expose  h  la  foire,  on  n'en  remplira  pas  les 
prisons'*    (vii.  319). 

This  proposal  from  the  man  who  invoked  suppression  of 
Palissot's  Satiriqiic  might  seem  odious,  were  it  not  for  his  having 
also  once  attempted  to  persuade  Mercier  "que  les  lois  n'auront 
pas  tort  de  brulor  un  athee  en  place  publique,"  *  and  for  his 
having  pardoned  a  certain  monk  his  attacks  on  free  thinkers.' 
Moreover,  Diderot's  hope  of  government  cooperation  was  not 
so  preposterous  as  it  may  seem.  Shortly  after  the  time  we  are 
considering,  between  1760  and  1770,  the  Philosophers  captured 
the  Academy."  ]\Iore  than  once,  Palissot  and  other  adversaries 
of  the  Philosophic  Party  felt  the  weight  of  wdiat  has  been 
called,  with  much  exaggeration,  the  "literary  despotism"  of  the 
philosophers."  Freron's  Aniice  littcraire  was  suspended  for 
an  attack  on  d'Alembert.  "Pen  s'en  faut,"  once  wrote 
Grimm,  "que  meme  les  meilleurs  esprits  ne  se  persuadent  que 
I'empire  doux  et  paisible  de  la  philosophic  va  succeder  aux  longs 
orages  de  la  deraison.""  Some  act  of  repression  would  dash 
these  hopes,  but  they  would  be  revived  again.  Tt  Is  too  much 
to  say  with  ^I.  Belin  that  after  the  reaction  provoked  by  the 
Systcme  de  la  nature  (1770)  had  spent  itself,  under  Turgot's 
ministry,  "les  philosophes  et  les  economistes  de  persecutes 
devenaient  persecuteurs."  "  But  the  fact  remains  that  Turgot 
was  a  viinistre  philosophe  and  radicalism  came  into  power 
with  him. 

Diderot's  anxiety  not  to  arouse  unnecessary  antagonism  at 
a  critical  time  is  responsible  for  his  appearing  not  to  have  gone 
further  than  La  Chaussee,  whose  lachrymose  comedy  of  sensi- 

*  L.  Beclard,  .9.  Mercier.  p.  72.  "La  tolerance  [says  Diderot]  n'est 
jamais  que  le  systeme  du  persecute,  systeme  qu'il  abandonne  aussitot 
qu'il  est  assez  fort  pour  etre  oersecuteur."  (M.  Tourneux,  Diderot  et 
Cat1>rrine   TT.  Paris,  1S99,  p.   307). 

«vi,  369  f. 

'"V.  Brunei,  Les  Philosophes  et  VAcad^-mie    (Paris,  1884),  Bk.  TI. 

"  Delafarge,  Tn  vie  rt  les  ouvrar/es  dr  Palissot,  p.  310  ff.,  549  ff ; 
F.  Cornou,  ETip  Frrron   (Paris.  1922).  p.  169,  303. 

'^Corr.  lift.  II,  328   (Jan.  15,  1757). 

"  J.  P.  Belin,  Le  mouvement  philosophique  de  171/8  A  17S9  (Paris, 
1913).  p.  3.51. 


22  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

bility  aimed  to  destroy  social  prejudices,  just  like  Diderot's 
"drmnc  moral,"  which  was  devoted  to  the  "question  du  suicide, 
de  I'honneur,  du  duel,  de  la  fortune,  des  dignites,"  and  Dide- 
rot's "dramc  philosophiquc."  His  consistent  preaching  of  pro- 
fessional ideals,  his  apparent  acceptance  of  the  existing  social 
structure  and  duties  as  things  entirely  static,  his  speaking, 
even  later  in  the  seventies,  and  in  connection  with  historical 
drama,  of  nothing  more  revolutionary  than  arousing  commis- 
eration over  the  fate  of  the  unfortunate,  convinced  one  of  the 
best  students  of  Diderot,  vi;:.,  Rosenkranz,  that  our  philosopher 
"maintained  the  moral  point  of  view  even  while  his  century  had 
progressed  to  the  political."  "  Yet  even  Rosenkranz  admits  that 
"in  seiner  hierin  unbewusster  Genialitaet,"  and  as  early  as  1758, 
Diderot  had  made  the  plot  of  his  Pcrc  dc  famillc  revolve  about 
a  lettre  dc  cachet.  And  we  have  heard  Diderot  proclaim  the 
drama  an  excellent  auxiliary  to  legislation.  The  truth  seems  to 
be  that  from  the  beginning  of  his  dramatic  crusade,  Diderot  was 
fully  aware  of  the  opportunities  for  oppositionist  politics  which 
the  new  theatre  afforded,  but  did  not  care  to  be  too  outspoken 
just  when  the  Encyclopedia  had  begun  to  feel  the  weight  of  the 
temporal  and  secular  powers.''  Further  on,  in  this  chapter  and 
in  the  one  on  Acting,  Diderot  will  testify  to  his  abiding  faith 
in  the  social  and  political  revolution  which,  according  to  him, 
was  correlated  with  the  artistic.  For  the  present  we  need  only 
observe  that  in  the  discourse  Dc  la  Poesie  dramatique,  Diderot 
himself  invites  us  to  read  between  the  lines  of  his  plays.  In 
theory  at  least,  his  was  the  subtler  kind  of  propaganda,  im- 
known  to  the  "Reverend  Father"  La  Chaussee  and  despised 
by  Mercier,  which  shuns  the  threadbare  tir^ide.  It  is  the  method 
which  Sedaine  and  Beaumarchais  were  to  employ  with  such 
marked  success : 

"Qu'un   auteur  intelligent   fasse  entrer   dans   son   ouvrage 
des  traits   que   le  spectateur   s'applique,   j'y   consens;    qu'il   y 

"Rosenkranz,  Diderot    (2nd   ed.)    ii,   213. 

^"  Like  several  of  his  contemporaries  Diderot  was  aware  of  the 
existence  of  class  struggle.  "Dans  la  nature,  toutes  les  especes  se 
devorent,  toutes  les  condtions  se  devorent  dans  la  societe"  (v,  421). 
"Les  conditions  n'ont-elles  pas  entre  elles  les  memes  contrastes  que 
les  caracteres?    Et  le  poete  ne  pourra-t-il  pas  les  opposer?"   (vii,  1.">1). 


"LE  DRAME"  23 

rappelle  des  ridicules  en  vogue,  des  vices  dominants,  des 
ill  fu  incuts  publics:  qu'il  plaise,  niais  que  ce  soil  sans  y 
penser.  Si  Ton  remariiuo  son  but,  il  le  manque;  il  cesse  de 
dialoguor,   il   preche"    (vii,  343   f.) 

.Mercier'"  found  fault  with  Racine  for  having  made  light 
of  a  judge  in  Les  Flaidciirs,  and,  gravely  shaking  his  head  over 
Moliere's  banter,  urged  the  poet :  "S'il  peint  le  vice,  qu'il  ne 
plaisante  point.  Le  rire  deviendrait  alors  sacrilege.  Le  vice 
doit  toujours  inspirer  de  I'aversion."  Cato-Diderot  we  are  glad 
to  say,  redeemed  his  all  too  obvious  and  not  quite  sincere  Puri- 
tanism by  such  concessions  to  dramatic  objectivity  as  the  fol- 
lowing: "II  n'y  a  rien  de  sacre  pour  le  poete,  pas  meme  la 
vertu,  qu'il  couvrira  de  ridicule,  si  la  personne  et  le  moment 
I'exigent." ''  lie  admitted  that  poetical  mores  are  not  morally 
best,"  even  as  he  cynically  owned  that  he  did  not  detest  great 
crimes,  because  they  make  beautiful  subjects  in  painting.  This 
is  why,  in  Diderot's  Joueur,  '"  Stukely  preaches  that  "Les  lois 
eternelles  de  la  nature  son  la  ruse  et  la  force,"  and  justifies 
crime  by  reference  to  the  code  of  Nature  which  contains  only 
one  word :    "Freedom." 

Diderot's  "virtuous"  theatre  is,  happily,  not  entirely  and 
artificially  virtuous.  It  knows  heinous  deeds  and  wretches  who 
are  not  good  at  heart  and  who  do  not  repent.  (The  originator  of 
the  new  comedy,  Destouches,  knew  these  not  and  made  numer- 
ous disciples).  Diderot  felt  that,  let  Rousseau  say  what  he  will, 
he  could  hold  the  mirror  up  to  human  nature  without  any  of 
the  dire  consequences  predicted  by  that  misanthropist.  While 
admitting,  with  Dorval's  Constance,  that  "il  n'y  avait  point 
d'homme,  quelque  honnete  qu'il  fiit,  qui,  dans  un  violent  acces 
de  passion,  ne  desirat,  au  fond  de  son  coeur,  les  honneurs  de 
la  vertu  et  les  avantagse  du  vice,"  he  believed,  or  found  it 
expedient  to  believe,  that  "les  hommes  de  bien  sont  plus  reelle- 
ment    hommes    de    bien    que    les    mechants    ne    sont    mechants ; 

"Z)!<    TJinitre    (1773),  pp.   74,   76. 

"vii,  363.  '*vii.  371. 

"•  vii,  466.  It  is  worth  noting  that  the  author  of  the  original 
Gamble)-,  traced  crime  to  free-thinking;  an  opinion  in  which  Pallissot 
concurred. 


24  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

que  la  bonte  nous  est  plus  indivisiblement  attachee  que  la 
mechancete."'"  He  hoped  that  in  the  new  theatre  even  the 
wicked  would  "see  the  hiunan  species  as  it  is,  and  would  become 
reconciled  to  it.  Good  men  are  rare,  but  they  exist.""  Owing 
to  an  original  bent  for  order  and  virtue,  man,  no  matter  how 
depraved,  is  always  sensitive  to  the  example  of  virtue  and  there- 
fore capable  of  moral  education."^  So  convinced  was  Diderot 
of  man's  perfectibility  that  he  affirmed  "qu'il  n'y  avait  rien 
qu'on  ne  put  sur  le  cceur  humain  avec  de  la  verite,  de  I'hon- 
netete  et  de  I'eloquence."  ^^ 

—  "Je  le  repete  done,  I'honnete.  II  nous  louche  d'une 
maniere  plus  intime  et  plus  douce  que  ce  qui  excite  notre 
mepris  et  nos  ris.... 

—  La  nature  humaine  est  done  bonne? 

—  Oui,  mon  ami,  et  tres  bonne.  L'eau,  I'air,  la  terre,  le 
feu,  tout  est  bon  dans  la  nature....  Ce  sont  les  miserables 
conventions  qui  pervertissent  I'homme,  et  non  la  nature  qu'il 
faut  accuser.  En  effet,  qu'est-ce  qui  nous  affecte  comme  le 
recit  d'une  action  genereuse?  Ou  est  le  malhereux  qui 
puisse  ecouter  froidement  la  plainte  d'un  homme  de  bien?" 
(vii,  312). 

Diderot  considered  his  "drame"  admirably  fitted  for  the 
moral  mission  of  art.  Tragedy  was  too  remote  from  everyday 
life  to  be  morally  effective;  comedy  taught  men  how  to  eschew 
the  ridicule  of  vice  without  inspiring  in  them  the  decision  to 
be  good."^  Now,  Diderot  might  have  admitted  that  the  comedy 
of  "sensibility"  merely  called  forth,  in  the  words  of  the  author 
of  Xh^Discours  sur  I'inegalite,  "un  sentiment  bientot  etouffe  par 
les  passions,  une  pitie  sterile  qui  se  repait  de  quelque  larmes 
et  n'a  jamais  produit  le  moindre  acte   d'humanite."  ^'     But  he 

'"vii,  128.    Cf.  xi,  118    {Salon  de  1767). 

'^vii,  310.  "vii,  67  ff. 

"^  vii,  129.  On  tlie  history  of  the  question  of  the  morality  of  the 
stage,  see  the  series  of  papers  by  L.  Bourquin  in  Rev.  (VMst.  lift., 
t.  xxvi  ff. 

-*  Cf.  V,  443  (le  Keveu  de  Rameau). 

"^  Cf.  the  admissions  of  Diderot  in  the  Salon  de  1767.  x,  118.  The 
Paradoxe  sur  le  coviedien  seems  to  be  the  outcome  of  the  realization 
of  the  amoral   character  of  false   sensibility. 


"LE  DRAME"  25 

insisted  tliat  the  new  "ilraina  of  conditions"  delivered  its  social 
message  too  directly  and  forcibly  for  any  one  to  miss  it. 

"II  me  semble  que  cette  source  est  plus  f6conde,  plus 
^tendue,  et  plus  utile  que  celle  des  caract^res.  Pour  peu  que 
le  caractere  filt  charge,  un  spectateur  pouvait  se  dire  k  lui 
meme,  ce  u'est  pas  moi.  Mais  il  ne  peut  se  cacher  que  I'etat 
qu'on  joue  devant  lui.  ne  soit  le  sien;  il  ne  peut  nieconnaitre 
ses  devoirs.     11   I'aut  qu'il  s'applique  ce  qu'il  entend."-" 

What  with  the  direct  and  realistic  presentation  of  highly 
pathetic  scenes,  the  enormous  theatres  required  liy  his  "system," 
the  contagious  emotion  in  huge  crowds,  the  intensification  of 
emotion  by  his  "simultaneous  scenes",  Diderot  hoped  that  the 
frenr^ied  enthusiasm  of  the  ancient  spectators  of  the  drama 
might  be  revixed."' 

Said  Dorval's  Constance:  "Les  passions  detruisent  plus 
de  prejuges  que  la  philosophic.  Et  comment  le  mensonge  leur 
resisterait-il  ?  Elles  ebranlent  quelquefois  la  verite."  ^'  With 
the  passions  of  the  people  at  the  service  of  truth,  Diderot  be- 
lieved he  could  work  wonders.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
Grimm  gave  expression  to  the  fondest  wish  and  hope  of 
Diderot  when  he  said,  apropos  of  the  FiJs  naturcl: 

"Ceux  qui  sent  en  etat  de  pressentir  les  revolutions  et 
les  evenements  qu'elles  amenent,  pretendent  que  cette  piece 
fera  une  revolution  sur  notre  theatre,  et  que  M.  Diderot  n'a 
qu'a  continuer  a  travailler  dans  ce  genre  pour  etre  le  maitre 
absolu  du  theatre.  Ma  prediction  va  plus  loin:  il  ne  tient 
qu'a  M.  Diderot  de  faire  une  revolution  salutaire  dans  les 
mceurs  en  ramenant  les  conditions  sur  la  scene,  et  son  Pire 
(le  fnmiUe  accomplira  cette  prediction"  (Corr.  litt.  iii,  357, 
March  1,  1757). 


^'vii,  150.  Cf.  La  Chaussee,  Fausse  antiimthic.  prol.  scene  viii: 
also  Freron,  7.  cit.  For  somewhat  similar  claims  on  behalf  of  the 
genre  larmoyant.  cf.  De  Bougainville,  Disrours  de  r^-ceptioyi  a  VAca- 
(Innie.  May  30,  1751,  in  Vial  and  Denise.  Tdces  et  doctrines  litt.  du 
xviiie  s..  p.  223  ff. 

='vii,  121  f..  116.  "vii.  126. 


26  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

IV 

THE    GENERAL    "POETICS"    OF    DIDEROT    IS    IDEO-REALISTIC. 

IT   ALLOWS    CONSIDERABLE    LATITUDE    TO    SUBJECTIVISM    IN 

SPITE    OF   ITS    OBJECTIVISTIC    FORMULAS 

Although  Diderot  was  fully  aware  of  the  fact  that  the 
growth  of  radical  dramaturgy  had  been  conditioned  by  the 
social  revolution  whereby  the  bourgeoisie  had  risen  to  promi- 
nence/ he  nevertheless  endeavored  to  rest  the  "drama"  on  the 
theoretical  foundation  of  the  "systcinc  de  la  nature,"  and  pre- 
sent it  as  an  application  of  the  theory  of  natural  imitation. 
The  essay  De  la  Pocsic  dramatlque,  the  outcome  of  this  en- 
deavor, cannot  be  pronounced  a  thorough  success.  The  critic 
will  no  doubt  find  fault  with  Diderot's  obscure  notions,  imper- 
fect distinctions,  sweeping  omissions,  inductions  from  too  few 
instances,  the  rather  haphazard  stringing  of  esthetic  theorems, 
and  so  forth.  He  might  find  extra-esthetic  notions  dis- 
guised as  esthetic  categories.  According  to  his  own  point  of 
view,  he  might  be  exasperated  by  Diderot's  employing  the 
recognized  terms  of  the  critical  trade  in  ways  and  to  pur- 
poses not  sanctioned  by  tradition,  or  else  wish  that  Diderot  had 
not  tried,  as  he  apparently  did,  to  reconcile  Aristotle,  Horace, 
Boileau  and  Racine  to  himself  and  to  one  another.  He  may  bear 
witness  with  Sainte-Beuve  to  Diderot's  abhorence  of  convention- 
ality and  preciosity,  to  his  sincere  effort  to  recall  his  contem- 
poraries to  truth  of  manners,  reality  of  sentiments,  and  obser- 
vation of  nature.  Or  he  may  sadly  reflect  that  truth  and 
nature  have  always  been  words  to  conjure  with,  and  that 
Diderot  employed  them  to  no  better  purpose  than  the  other 
founders  of  literary  schools.  Scd  non  nostrum  est  tantas  coui- 
poncre  lites.  In  this  sub-chapter  we  shall  only  incidentally  dwell 
on  the  cogency,  filiation  or  originality  of  Diderot's  ideas,  our 
main  purpose  being  to  outline  his  theory  of  the  drama  on  the 
basis  of  his  specifically  dramatic  writings,  elucidating  his  mani- 
festos of  1757-58,  if  need  be,  by  his  other  contribution  to 
the  general  "poetics"  of  dramatic  imitation. 

^Cf.  vii,  151;   viii,  440  f. 


•'LE  DRAME"  27 

As  already  stated,  Diderot's  dramatic  system  is  jiresented 
as  a  special  chapter  of  general  esthetic,  as  an  application  of 
the  far-reaching  doctrine  of  "imitation  or  painting"  of  "truth 
or  nature."  Like  Uatteux  and  Rameau,  Diderot  believed  that 
the  arts  of  imitation,  or  rather  all  arts  (since  "les  sens  ne  sont 
tous  qu'un  toucher,  tons  les  arts  qu'une  imitation")"  were  ren- 
dered possible  because  of  these  two  facts:  that,  on  the  one  hand, 
nature  is  constant  in  its  operations  and,  on  the  other,  that  this 
gratifies  our  sense  of  order.  Although  he  refused  to  call  it  an 
"instinct,"'  Diderot  held,  with  Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson,  Adam 
Smith*  and  many  other  authors,  that  the  esthetic  sense  (which 
he  calls  "taste")  and  moral  conscience  were  one  and  the  same 
thing  though  applied  to  different  objects.  "Je  definis,"  says 
Dorval  speaking  for  Diderot,  "je  definis  la  vertu,  le  gout  de 
I'ordre  dans  les  choses  morales.  Le  gout  de  I'ordre  en  general 
nous  domine  des  la  plus  tendre  enfance ;  il  est  plus  ancien  dans 
notre  ame.  .  qu'aucun  sentiment  reflechi.  .  .11  agit  en  nous,  sans 
que  nous  nous  en  apercevions ;  c'est  le  germe  de  I'honnetete  et 
du  bon  goiit."  -  (This,  be  it  said  in  passing,  is  worth  remem- 
bering when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  connection  Diderot  per- 
ceived between  moral  and  esthetical  judgments.) 

It  follows  from  these  definitions  that  the  artist  or  "poet" 
who  endeavors  to  "paint"  reality,  obeys  the  same  impulse,  pur- 
sues the  same  ends  of  order,  clearness  and  universality  as  the 
natural  philosopher  in  quest  of  the  eternal  "rapports"  nature 
is  made  of.  In  the  famous  Academic  discourse  on  Taste  which 
entered  into  the  Encydopcdie  under  the  heading  of  "GoCit," 
d'Alembert  eulogized  the  "Vittcratcnr  pliUosophe" ;  Diderot 
would  have  said  that  to  be  a  full-fledged  artist  one  must  be  a 
philosopher  also.  His  profession  of  esthetic  faith  is  thus  at  the 
outset  thoroughly  objectivistic: 

^vii.  162. 

^xi.    25;    X,   27.     The   bias   towards    intellectualism    differentiates 
Diderot  from  Rousseau. 

*  Hutcheson,   Enquiry   into    the   original   of   our   ideas    of    beauty; 
Adam  Smith,  Theory  of  moral  sentiments. 

'vii.  127.  Cf.  Batteux's  definition  of  taste. 

*  Reflexions  svr  Vusage  et  sur  tubus  de  la  philosophie  dans   les 
matures  de  gout  (1757). 


28  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

"Un  gout  dominant  de  I'ordre. .  .nous  contraint  a  mettre 
de  la  proportion   entre  les  etres..."    (vii,   148). 

"II  n'y  a  de  beautes  durables  que  celles  qui  sont  fondees 
sur  des  rapports  avec  les  etres  de  la  nature.  Si  I'on  ima- 
ginait  les  etres  dans  une  vicissitude  rapide,  toute  peinture 
ne  representant  qu'un  instant  qui  fuit,  toute  imitation  serait 
superfine.  Les  beautes  ont,  dans  les  arts,  le  meme  fondement 
que  les  verites  dans  la  philosophie.  Qu'est-ce  que  la  verite? 
La  conformite  de  nos  jugements  avec  les  etres.  Qu'est-ce  que 
la  beaute  d'imitation?  La  conformite  de  I'image  avec  la 
chose"   (vii,  156). 

"L'art  dramatique  ne  prepare  les  evenements  que  pour 
les  enchainer;  et  il  ne  les  enchaine  dans  ses  productions,  que 
parce  qu'ils  le  sont  dans  la  nature.  L'art  imite  jusqu'a  la 
maniere  subtile  avec  laquelle  la  nature  nous  derobe  la  liaison 
des  effets"   (vii,  130). 

A  corollary  which  Diderot  developed   in  the   article   "Encyclo- 
pedic" is  that 

"un  ecrivain  qui  veut  assurer  a  ses  ouvrages  un  charme 
eternel  ne  pourra  emprunter  avec  trop  de  reserve  sa  maniere 
de  dire  des  idees  du  jour,  des  opinions  courantes,  des  sys- 
temes  regnants,  des  arts  en  vogue;  tous  ces  modeles  sont  en 
vicissitude.  II  s'attacbera  de  preference  aux  etres  perma- 
nents,  aux  phenomenes  des  eaux,  de  la  terre  et  de  I'air,  au 
spectacle  de  I'univers  et  aux  passions  de  I'homme  qui  sont 
toujours  les  memes"    (xiv,  432). 

To  the  objects  of  imitation  here  enumerated  the  discourse 
Dc  la  Pocsic  dramatique  adds,  as  will  be  shown  later,  "les  con- 
ditions," or  the  various  social  stations,  and,  of  course,  human 
actions.  Accordingly,  the  poet  and  especially  the  dramatic 
poet,  must  also  be  a  psychologist  and  sociologist: 

"Qu'il  soit  philosophe,  qu'il  ait  descendu  en  lui-meme, 
qu'il  y  ait  vu  la  nature  liumaine,  qu'il  soit  profondement 
instruit  des  etats  de  la  societe,  qu'il  en  connaisse  bien  les 
fonctions  et  le  poids,  les  inconvenients  et  les  avantages" 
(vii,  309). 

This  is  why  Ariste-Diderot 

"se  livra  a  I'iiistoire,  a  la  philosophie,  a  la  morale,  aux 
sciences  et  aux  arts;  et  il  fut  a  ciuquante-cinq  ans  homme  de 


"LE  DRAME"  29 

I)it'n,   liomme   instruit,   homme  de  gout,   grand   auteur   et   cri- 
tinuo  excellent"    (vii,  394)   — 

Indeed,   an    acconiplislicd    Encyclopedist. 

This  is  objectivism  with  a  vengeance.  Yet  Utile  by  Httle 
Diderot  manages  to  mitigate  it.  To  begin  with,  he  establishes 
a  distinction  between  the  aims  and  methods  of  the  artist  and 
those  of  the  naiuial  philosopher  (who  is  concerned  with  the 
abstract  and  general  laws  of  nature  and  their  "interpretation") 
and  of  the  historian  (whom  Diderot,  retaining  the  traditional 
view,  pictured  as  a  cataloguer  of  particular  events).  Contrasted 
with  these  two,  the  poet  appears  as  a  "systematiquc,"  a  framer 
of  hypotheses,  and  not  a  seeker  of  the  absolute,  of  general 
truths  and  particular  facts.  As  such  he  must  strive  to  render 
the  "illusion"  only  of  truth.  He  must  so  link  the  parts  of  his 
"poem"  as  to  give  the  impression  of  cohesion  and  necessity. 
The  following  lines  are  of  interest  because  they  foreshadow  the 
theory  of  the  "experimental  novel" : 

"Se  rappeler  une  suite  necessaire  d'lmages  telles  qu'elles 
se  succedent  dans  la  nature,  c'est  raisonner  d'apres  les  faits. 
Se  rappeler  une  suite  d'images  commes  elles  se  succederalent 
necessairement  dans  la  nature,  tel  ou  tel  phenomene  etant 
donne,  c'est  raisonner  d'apres  une  hypothese,  ou  feindre; 
c'est  etre  philosophe  ou  poete  selon  le  but  qu'on  se  propose. 
Et  le  poete  qui  feint,  et  le  philosophe  qui  raisonne,  sont 
egalement  et  dans  le  meme  sens,  consequents  ou  Inconse- 
quents:  car  etre  consequent,  ou  avoir  I'experience  de  I'en- 
chainement  necessaire  des  phenomenes,  c'est  la  meme  chose" 
(vii,  334). 

"Nous  cherchons  en  tout  une  certaine  unite;  c'est  cette 
unit6  qui  fait  le  beau,  soit  reel,  soit  imaginaire;  une  cir- 
constance  est-elle  donnee,  cette  circonstance  entralne  les 
autres  et  le  systeme  se  forme  vrai,  si  la  circonstance  a  ete 
prise  dans  la  nature;  faux  si  ce  fut  une  affaire  de  convention 
ou   de  caprice"    (vii,   403;    to  Mme  Riccoboni). 

"Les  vertus  s'enchalnent  les  unes  aux  autres;  et  les  vices 
se  tiennent  pour  ainsi  dire  par  la  main... c'est  une  sorte 
d'association  necessaire.  Imaginer  un  caractere  c'est  trouver 
d'apres  une  passion  dominante  donnee,  bonne  ou  mauvaise,  les 
passions  subordonnees  qui  I'accompagnent,  les  sentiments,  les 


30  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

discours  et  les  actions  qu'elle  suggere,  et  la  sorte  de  teinte 
ou  d'energie  que  tout  le  systeme  intellectuel  et  moral  en 
regoit;  d'ou  Ton  volt  que  les  peintures  ideales...ne  peuvent 
jamais  devenir  chimeriques"    (xiv,  487;    art.   '■'Encyclopedie"). 

"Au  lieu  que  la  liaison  des  evenements  nous  echappe 
souvent  dans  la  nature,  et  que  faute  de  connaltre  I'ensemble 
des  choses,  nous  ne  voyons  qu'une  concomitance  fatale  dans 
les  faits,  le  poete  veut,  lui,  qu'il  regne  dans  toute  la  texture 
de  son  ouvrage  une  liaison  apparente  et  sensible;  en  sorte 
qu'il  est  moins  vrai  et  plus  vraisemblable  que  I'historien" 
(vii,  329). 

The  words  "peintures  ideales,"  "beau  imaginaire,"  "poete  qui 
feint"  testify  to  the  recognition  by  Diderot  of  a  certain  amount 
of  independence  of  the  data  of  experience.  Thus  far,  however, 
the  difference  between  the  methods  and  aims  of  the  poet  and 
those  of  the  naturaHst  is  only  quantitative. 

The  ways  of  the  artist  and  naturalist  are  seen  to  drift  fur- 
ther and  further  apart  when  the  former  is  enjoined  to  eschew 
the  "simple  et  froide  tmiformite  des  choses  communes."'  The 
poet's  manner  of  imitation  as  well  as  his  models,  Diderot  tells 
us  (following  Aristotle  or  his  commentators)  must  compel  our 
interest  and  admiration.  Hence  the  necessary  appearance  in 
every  "poem"  of  something  "marvellous"  or  "niervcilleiix,"  that 
is  to  say  extraordinary. 

In  this  connection  we  must  deplore  the  loss  of  Diderot's 
ideas  on  the  subject  of  "historical  certitude,"  which  for  him  is 
the  basis  of  poetics ;  it  would  have  been  especially  instructive 
to  witness  his  "establishing  the  delicate  shades  which  distinguish 
the  chimerical  from  the  possible,  the  possible  from  the  marvel- 
lous, the  marvellous  from  embellished  nature,  embellished  na- 
ture from  the  common."'  Fortunately,  statements  enough 
have  been  preserved  to  enable  us  to  approximate  the  general 
trend  of  his  ideas  on  this  head.  Some  of  the  distinctions  indi- 
cated above,  the  "marvellous"  for  instance,  are  adumbrated  in 
Dc  la  Pocsie  dranwtiquc : 

•vii,  329.  'vii,  335. 

"xix,  242   (Sept.  24,  1767). 


"LE  DRAME"  31 

"11  arrive  (iiu^liiuefois  a  I'ordre  naturel  des  choses  d'en- 
chainer  des  incidents  extraordinaires.  C'est  le  m6me  ordre 
qui  distingue  le  merveilleux  du  miraculeux.  Les  cas  rares 
sont  merveilleux;  les  cas  naturellement  impossibles  sont 
miraculeux."  " 

A  s])ecial  case  of  the  "merveilleux"  is  the  "vernis  roinanesqiic" 
which  Diderot  defines  as  follows: 

"Vn  ouvrage  sera  romanesciue,  si  le  merveilleux  nait  de 
la  simultaneite  des  ev6nements;  si  Ton  y  voit  les  dieux  ou 
les  hommes  trop  mfichants,  ou  trop  bons;  si  les  choses  et  les 
caracteres  y  different  trop  de  ce  que  I'experience  ou  I'histoire 
nous  les  montre;  et  surtout  si  I'enchainement  des  evenements 
y  est  trop  extraordinaire   et  trop   complique"    (vii,   330). 

We  may  surmise  that  the  romancsquc  or  Romanticist 
veneer  is  thickest  in  the  epic  and  novel,  though  to  a  lesser 
extent  in  the  realistic  genre  of  Richardson.  But  it  also  "un- 
happily adheres  to  the  dramatic  genre,  owing  to  the  necessity 
of  imitating  the  general  order  of  things  only  when  it  is  pleased 
to  combine  extraordinary  incidents;  for  only  such  afford  dra- 
matic interest." 

But  whilst  the  "miraculous"  proper  is  interesting,  it  does 
not  command  lasting  or  absorbing  interest.  The  fairy  way  of 
writing,  like  the  "conte  plaisant,"  "  may  amuse  us,  but  does  little 
else.  How  could  it  when  it  has  no  real  objects  of  imitation? 
Deep  and  lasting  interest  attaches  only  to  that  which  can  pro- 
cure us  the  "illusion"  of  reality,  and  a  good  poem  of  any  kind 
must  be  "marvellous  without  ceasing  to  be  verisimilar."  The 
extraordinary  must  be  redeemed  by  the  trivial, — a  compensa- 
tory formula  which  is  thus  expressed  by  Diderot : 

"Le  poete  ne  pent  s'abandonner  a  toute  la  fougue  de  son 
Imagination;  il  est  des  bornes  qui  lui  sont  prescrites.  II  a 
le  modele  de  sa  conduite  dans  les  cas  de  I'ordre  general  des 
choses.  Voila  sa  regie.  Plus  ces  cas  seront  rares  et  singu- 
liers.  plus  il  lui  faudra  d'art,  de  temps,  d'espace  et  de  circon- 
stances  communes  pour  en  composer  le  merveilleux  et  fonder 

'"vii.  329.  Cf.  xil.  126   (Pensi'cs  cUtacMes  sur  la  peinUire,  etc.); 
X,  4S1   CEssai  snr  la  peinture). 
"V,   276;    vii,   1.52. 


32  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

I'illusion.  Si  le  fait  historique  n'est  pas  assez  merveilleux,  il 
le  fortifiera  par  des  incidents  extraordinaires;  s'il  Test  trop, 
11  I'affaiblira  par  des   incident  communs"    (vii,   334  f.) 

In  short,  Diderot  claims  on  behalf  of  the  artist  the  privi- 
lege of  practicing  what  Father  Rapin  called  "le  temperament  du 
merveilleux  et  du  vraisemblable."  ^^  The  similarity  of  the  for- 
mulas employed  by  the  two  critics  conceals,  however,  a  marked 
difference.  For  while  Rapin  defined  the  "marvellous"  as  some- 
thing against  the  order  of  nature  and  the  "verisimilar"  as  that 
which  conforms  to  popular  belief,  decorum  and  even  technical 
recipe,  Diderot  seems  to  have  assimilated  the  marvellous  to  the 
"singular  instance"  of  Baconian  physics  and  the  verisimilar  to 
the  vera  causa  of  New^tonian  fame.  It  is  not  surprising,  then, 
if  he  held  a  work  of  art  to  be  a  concatenation  of  fact  and  fancy 
resembling  that  of  fact  and  hypothesis  in  a  "system"  of  physics. 

Besides  preferring  the  marvellous  and  verisimilar  to  the 
less  "interesting"  aspects  of  nature,  the  poetic  imitation  of 
nature  differs  from  its  scientific  interpretation  inasmuch  as 
the  main  concern  of  art,  the  interesting  thing  par  excellence, 
is  human  suffering  and  human  passion.  Thus,  having  begun 
by  the  statement  that  the  beauty  of  art  has  the  same  foun- 
dation as  the  truth  of  nature,  Diderot  ended  by  saying  equally 
emphatically  that : 

"Autre  chose  est  la  verite  en  poesie;  autre  chose  en 
philosophie.  Pour  etre  vrai,  le  philosophe  doit  conformer 
son  discours  a  la  nature  des  objets;  le  poete  a  la  nature  de 
ses  caracteres.  Peindre  d'apres  la  passion  et  I'interet,  voila 
son  talent"    (vii,   363). 

Folio wi-ng  the  lead  of  Du  Bos,  Diderot  regarded  the  power 
of  art  to  touch  and  move  as  its  most  important  function. 
Diderot  often  speaks  as  if  emotion  were  intrinsically  esthetic 
and  one  must  scrutinize  Diderot's  writings  very  closely  to  learn 
that  the  capacity  of  art  to  express  and  arouse  emotions  is 
secondary  lo  that  of  educing  that  state  of  disinterestedness  and 
pleasure  in  which,  estheticians  say,  consists  the  spell  of  art." 

"Rapin,   Reflexi07is   sur   la   povtique;   de   la   poHique   en   general, 
se^t.  xxiii,  in  CEuvres   (Amst.,  1709),  vol.  II,  p.  136. 
"Cf.  xi,  116  (Salon  de  1161). 


"LE  DRAME"  33 

To  pursue  our  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  poetic  (and  there- 
fore dramatic)  imitation,  whilst  the  Aristotelians  speak  of 
"idealizing"  nature,  of  carrying  out  its  intention,  of  "perfecting" 
and  "embellishing"  it,  Diderot  speaks  of  sentimentalizing  it. 
The  artist,  says  he,  must  choose  the  "strongest"  nature,  ■/.  e., 
that  most  steeped  in  passion,  and  in  framing  his  hypotheses 
he  may,  or  must,  further  energize  passion  by  setting  it  in  the 
medium  most  favorable  to  its  growth.  Other  things  being  equal, 
he  should  conceive  the  tensest  situations  imaginable.  It  is  this 
practise  which  differentiates  the  dramatic  poet  from  the  his- 
torian. 

"On  lit,  dans  I'histoire,  ce  qu'un  homme  du  caractSre  de 
Henri  IV  a  fait  et  souffert.  Mais  combien  de  circonstances 
possibles  oil  il  eut  agi  et  souffert  d'une  maniere  conforme  a 
son  caractere,  plus  merveilleuse,  que  I'histoire  n'offre  pas, 
mais  que  la  poesie  imagine!"    (vii,  333). 

"Si  Ton  mettait  en  vers  VHistoire  de  Charles  XIl  elle 
n'en  serait  pas  moins  une  histoire.  Si  Ton  mettait  la  Henriade 
en  prose,  elle  n'en  serait  pas  moins  un  poeme.  Mais  I'histo- 
rien  a  ecrit  ce  qui  est  arrive,  purement  et  simplement,  ce  qui 
ne  fait  pas  toujours  sortir  les  caracteres  autant  qu'ils  pour- 
raient;  ce  qui  n'emeut  ni  n'interesse  pas  autant  qu'il  est 
possible  d'emouvoir  et  d'interesser.  Le  poete  eut  ecrit  tout 
ce  qui  lui  aurait  semble  devoir  affecter  le  plus.  II  eQt  feint 
des   discours.     II   eut   change   I'histoire"    (vii,   332). 

Characterization  and  emotive  expression  are  thus  closely 
interconnected  and  essential  to  imitation;  moreover,  "I'ex- 
pression  est  en  general  I'image  d'un  sentiment,"  or  somatic 
translation  of  emotion."  Hence  the  extensive  painting  of 
emotion  in  Diderot's  novels  and  dramas,  and  its  prominence  in 
his  theory. 

"Qu'est-ce  qui  nous  affecte  dans  le  spectacle  de  I'homme 
anime  de  quelques  grandes  passions?  Sont-ce  ses  discours? 
Quelquefois.  Mais  ce  qui  emeut  toujours,  ce  sont  des  cris, 
des  mots  articules,  des  voix  rompues,  quelques  monosyllabes 
qui  s'echappent  par  intervalles,  je  ne  sais  quel  murmure  dans 
la  gorge,  entre  les  dents...  La  voix,  le  ton.  le  geste.  Taction, 

"x,  484  (Essai  sur  la  peinture). 


34  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

voila  ce  qui  appartient  a  I'acteur;  et  c'est  ce  qui  nous  frappe 
surtout  dans  le  spectacle  des  grandes  passions"   (vii,  105  f.) 

He  carried  out  this  notion  to  excess  in  the  Paradoxc  sur  le 
comedien  (1770-78)  by  inviting  the  actor  to  present  the  out- 
ward semblance  of  emotion,  without  feehng  it."  His  true  opin- 
ion, however,  which  harmonizes  all  his  utterances,  is  that  the 
portrayal  of  inner  struggle  must  go  hand  in  hand  with  that  of 
its  external  manifestations. 

It  is  at  this  point  that,  albeit  surreptitiously,  subjectivism: 
at  last  enters  Diderot's  poetics,  "eloquence"  and  "poesy"  being 
by  him  assigned  almost  the  same  mimetic  function  as  the  ou^ 
ward  manifestations  of  expression.  As  Diderot  is  not  explicit 
in  this  connection,  it  is  well  to  remember  two  things  that  make 
his  meaning  clearer.  First,  that  the  essence  of  "poetry"  (and 
"eloquence")  is  the  elaboration  of  "images";  a  point  on  which 
Diderot  agrees  with  Du  Bos'*  and  countless  predecessors.  Next, 
that  these  "images"  inherit  the  function  which  La  Motte  and 
Shaftesbury  (not  to  mention  the  Italians  that  preceded  them) 
ascribed  to  "design"  or  desscin,  i.  e.,  the  mental  form  which 
guides  the  artist's  composition  and  is  superimposed  on  the 
object  of  his  imitation.  Disgusted  with  the  everlasting  "fable"^ 
or  fiction,"  with  mythology  and  allegories.  La  Mottte  had 
wished  for  something  radically  different,  for 

"une  fiction  de  figures  et  de  tours,  qui  donne  de  la  vie  a 
tout,  qui  mette  la  raison  meme  en  images,  qui  fasse  agir 
et  raisonner  les  vertus  et  les  vices,  et  qui,  en  peignant  les 
passions,  fasse  quelquefois  sentir  d'un  seul  mot  de  genie  leur 
principe,  leurs  stratagemes  et  leurs  effets."  " 

Diderot,  too,  sets  down  reason  in  images,"  and  emotion 
and  motion  beside  reason.  But  he  does  it  in  another  fashion. 
Accepting  as  he  did  Locke,  Condillac  and   Hume's  account  of 

"  V.    the    chapter    on    acting   and    tragedy.    Cf.    the    discussion    in 
Jacques  le  Fataliste   (1773),  vi,   160. 

"  Cf.  Du  Bos,  Reflexions  critiques,  pt.  i,  sect.  33. 
"  La    Motte,    Discours    sur    les    prix    que    decernait    VAcademie,. 
Quoted  by  Dupont,  Houdar  de  la  Motte   (Paris,  1890),  p.  271. 
"Cf.  V,  213   (Eloge  de  Richardson). 


"LE  DKAME"  35 

the  origin  of  ideas,"  lie  held  ihat  all  our  abstract  iiutioiis  had 
boon  dcri\cd  from  "iiiuicjcs"  or  "tableaux."'"  (lie  seems,  by 
the  way,  to  have  conceived  this  pictorial  primordium  as  evolving 
out  of  slill  more  original  motor  "impressions.")"  lie  regarded 
concrete,  imaginative,  primitivist,  or  "poetic"  thinking  as  more 
expressi\e  and  communicative  of  feeling  than  the  algebraic 
symbolism  of  science  and  philosophy.  These  images,  directly 
or  through  the  association  with  other  "iiiia<jcs,"  "rapports"  and 
"idccs  acccssoircs"  which  they  induce  in  the  minds  of  readers 
or  listeners  stimulate  at  once  sense,  imagination,  sensibility  and 
reason." 

Diderot  was  one  of  the  earliest  estheticians  to  tone  down 
the  antithesis  of  "matter"  and  "form"  and  he  lent  the  weight 
of  his  authority  to  those  who — like  Du  l>os,  Saint-.Mard, 
d'Alembert  and  Chastellux — were  straying  off  the  beaten  track 
of  objectivism.  With  Diderot  form  was  a  necessary  element 
of  art,  not  the  adventitious  cloak  that,  according  to  the  Car- 
tesians'*^ and  even  some  representatives  of  the  "philosophic  spir- 
it," obscured  reason  and  hindered  its  communication.  lie 
v>rotc  in  the  Reflexions  siir  Terence   (1762): 

"Je  conviens  qu'ou  il  n'y  a  point  de  chose,  il  ne  peut  y 
avoir  de  style;  mais  je  ne  conQoia  pas  comment  on  peut 
oter  au  style  sans  oter  a  la  chose.  Si  un  podant  s'empare 
d'un  raisonnement   de  Ciceron   ou   de   Dem; Athene,  et  qu'il    le 

rfduise  en  un  syllogisme serait-il   en  droit   de  pretendre 

qu'il  n'a  fait  que  supprimer  des  mots,  sans  avoir  altere  le 
fond?  L'homme  de  goiit  lui  repondra:  Eh!  qu'est  devenue 
cette  harmonie  qui  me  seduisait?  Comment  se  sont  evanouies 
ces  images,  qui  m'assaillaient  en  foule,  et  qui  me  troublaient? 
Et  ces  expressions,  tantot  delicates,  tantot  energiques,  qui 
r^veillalent  dans  mon  esprit  je  ne  sais  combien  d'idees  acces- 
soires...qui    tenaient    mon    ame    agitee    d'une    suite    presque 

"  Condillac,  Essai  sur  Vorigine  des  connaissances  humaineSr 
pt.  I,  sect.  I,  ch.  2;  sect,  ii,  ch.  iii-iv.  Cf.  especially  Hume's  Enquiry 
concerning  the  human  understanding,  sect,  ii;  Treatise  of  hitman 
nature,  book  i.  pt.  i. 

"vii,  333  ff.  "Cf.   ii,   145,   17S   ff. 

""  X,  ISS  f.,  xi,  134,  etc.  Cf.  the  esthetics  of  Alison,  Quatremfire 
de  Quinry,  Taine.   Seailles,   etc. 

"The  Port-Royalists,  Berkeley,  even  Condillac,  ascribed  the 
materialization  of  expression  to  the  fall  of  man. 


36  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

ininterrompue  de  sensations  diverses,  et  qui  formaient  cet 
Impetueux  ouragan  qui  la  soulevait  a  son  gre;  je  ne  les  re- 
trouve  plus."  ^* 

Rhythm,  harmony,  metaphor  cannot  be  altered  with  im- 
punity since,  "strictly  speaking,  when  the  style  is  good,  there 
is  not  a  single  word  but  has  a  function  to  perform;  and  a  word 
that  has  a  function  to  perform  stands  for  something,  and  some- 
thing so  essential  that,  if  for  the  proper  expression  its  nearest 
synonym  be  substituted,  or  even  the  proper  expression  for  its 
synonym,  the  meaning  conveyed  will  sometimes  be  the  very 
opposite  of  that  intended  by  the  orator  or  poet."  "  Matter  and 
form,  contents  and  expression,  achieve,  as  it  were,  a  substantial 
union.  Art  is  Jionw  additus  naturae,  at  once  subjective  and 
objective.  "Poetry"  and  "eloquence"  are  to  a  certain  extent 
"exaggeration  and  falsehood"  ;"*  yet  they  are  the  interesting 
thing  in  art  and  its  soul.  It  is  to  them  that  art  is  indebted  for 
its  suggestiveness  and  perennial  novelty.  It  is  they  that  ener- 
gize, amplify,  modify  and  emotionalize  nature. 

In  the  Reve  de  d'Alemhert  (1769)  Diderot  goes  so  far 
as  to  compare  the  poet  to  a  musical  instrument  which  "is  either 
self-winding  or  wound  up  by  some  extraneous  cause.  It  then 
vibrates  within  or  resounds  without ;  it  silently  records  the 
impressions  it  receives,  or  causes  them  to  burst  out,  as  sounds 
in  a  scale  {par  des  sons  convenus)."  ''  The  artist's  account, 
pregnant  with  "accessory  ideas"  of  subjective  origin,  is  "poetic 
or  historical."  (This  last  word  is  taken  in  its  highest  sense.) 
Yet  Diderot  falls  short  of  subjectivism  and  expressionism  ow- 
ing to  his  conviction  that,  in  the  words  of  ]\Iatthew  Arnold, 
the  artist  must  subordinate  expression  to  that  which  it  is  de- 
signed to  express.  His  intimate  conviction  was  that,  unlike  the 
madman,  the  great  artist  perceives  real  "rapports,"  that  is  to 
say  truth,  however  fragmentary,  and  all  the  process  of  dis- 
tortion to  which  his  imagination  subjects  nature  is  directed  to 

^■•v,  23.5  (Reflexions  sur  Terence.  1762). 
«v,  236.     Cf.  xi,  267  ff.,  326  ff.  etc. 

='xl,    401    (Salon   de   1769).      Cf.    lii,    486    (Plan    d'une   tmiversite. 
1775-76). 

"ii,  17S. 


"LE  DRAME"  37 

reinforce  his  impression,  and  enforce  its  truth  upon  us."  As 
the  "ends"  of  poetry  are  not  entirely  abritrary,  the  images  and 
ideas  of  the  artist  find  an  echo  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the 
pubHc. 

To  sum  up,  "poetry  or  untruth"  never  quite  loses  (or  at 
least  ought  not  to  lose)  contact  with  nature.  Diderot  tells  us 
this  in  /(\s-  Deux  amis  de  Bonrbonnc  (1770)  in  which  the  juxta- 
position, already  noted,  of  the  natural  and  extraordinary  is  par- 
alleled by  a  compensatory  formula  which  regulates  the  flights 
of  fancy.  The  historical  narrator  (the  word  "historical"  is 
here  synonymous  with  "poetic")  aims  at  truth;  he  wishes  to 
compel  belief;  but  he  also  seeks  to  interest,  touch,  move  to  pity 
and  terror — 

"effet  qu'on  n'obtient  point  sans  Eloquence  et  sans  po^sle. 
Mais  I'eloquence  est  une  sorte  de  mensonge;  et  rien  de  plus 
contraire  a  I'lllusion  que  la  po^sie;  Tune  et  I'autre  exagerent, 
surfont,  amplifient,  insplrent  la  m^fiance;  comment  s'y  pren- 
dra  done  ce  conteur-ci  pour  tromper?  Le  voici.  II  pars6mera 
son  recit  de  petites  circonstances  si  liSes  h.  la  chose,  de  traits 
si  simples,  si  naturels,  et  toutefois  si  difflciles  h  imaginer,  '^ 
que  vous  serez  force  de  vous  dire  en  vous  meme:  Ma  foi, 
cela  est  vrai:  on  n'invente  pas  ces  choses-1^.  C'est  alnsi 
qu'il  sauvera  I'exageration  de  I'eloquence  et  de  la  poesie; 
que  la  verity  de  la  nature  couvrira  le  prestige  de  I'art;  et 
qu'il  satisfera  a  deux  conditions  qui  semblent  contradictoires, 
d'etre  en  meme  temps  historien  et  po6te,  v6ridique  et 
menteur."  "^ 

Diderot  prescribed  that  energetic  characterization  and 
stylistic  blandishments  must  be  linked  with  the  prosaic  and 
jejune*'  in  a  chain  wherein  each  element  controls  its  neighbors, 
as  the  nexus  of  fact  and  hypothesis  does  in  the  "systematic" 
interpretation  of  nature.  For  in  this  way  the  poet  "will  redeem 
tlie  exaggeration  of  eloquence  and  poetry;  the  truth  of  nature 
will  cover  the  magic  spell  of  art ;  and  he  will  satisfy  two  seem- 

"xi,  293  (Salon  de  1761). 

^v,  276  f.     Cf.  V,  217,  218  (Eloge  de  Richardson,  1761), 

•"Cf.  xii,  120  f. 


38  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

ingly   contradictory   requirements,   being  at   once   historian   and 
poet,  truthful  and  deceptive."^ 

Atque  ita  mentitur,   sic  veris   falsa   remiscet, 
Primo  ne  medium,  medio  ne  discrepet  imum.'^ 

This  system  of  checks  and  balances  is  completed  by  the 
opposition  of  "taste"  and  "genius,"  the  organs  involved  in  artis- 
tic creation.'^''  Owing  to  his  ambiguous  use  of  the  words  "gout," 
"esprit,"  and  "genie"  or  "verve,"  Diderot's  meaning  can  be 
established  only  by  carefully  piecing  together  a  great  many  of 
his  utterances.  When  this  is  done,  it  will  be  seen  that  by  "taste" 
he  designates,  among  other  things,  the  methodic,  critical  and 
educable  faculty  habitually  accompanying  "judgment"  and 
eliminative  of  individual  details  and  which  apprehends  "univer- 
sal" and  "eternal"  beauty,  i.  e.,  good  taste  upholding  certain 
formal  standards  of  beauty.  As  such  it  stands  in  contrast  to 
"genius,"  the  intuitive,  creative,  spontaneous  and  unstandardized 
faculty  which  is  dependent  upon  "sensibility"  and  "imagination" 
while  transcending  their  ordinary  manifestations,  and  which 
appreciates  and  creates  "unusual,"  "pathetic,"  "strong,"  "sub- 
lime," "irregular,"  and  "negligent"  beauties,  "bizarre  and  vio- 
lent situations,"  and  "seems  to  change  the  nature  of  things" 
which  it  tries  to  shape  to  its  whims  and  desires.^  Now,  wit 
and  judgment  often  are  at  strife  and  "la  verve  se  laisse  rare- 
ment  maitriser  par  le  gout."  But  for  all  that  "it  does  not  ex- 
clude it"  and  conversely.  For,  aside  from  the  fact  that  Diderot 
constantly  confuses  the  functions  of  the  two  organs,  not  only 
is  there  a  "gout  de  I'homme  de  genie,"  which  divines  and  creates 
permanent  ideals,  but  on  a  more  modest  scale,  every  act  of 
artistic  creation  may  be  regarded  as  the  joint  product  of  these 
two  antagonistic  organs,  one  of  which  makes  for  regularity, 
generality,   or,   if  you  prefer,   ideality,   while  the  other   is  con- 

•''' V.  277.  ^"  De  arte  pnetira,  v.    1;'!  f. 

^  Cf.  iii,  485  (Plan  cVune  university) ;  iv,  26  f.  (Fragm.  s.  le 
genie);  v,  233  f.  (Rejl.  sur  I'ocle);  x,  519  (Essai  sur  la  peinture) ; 
xi,  25,  130  f.  (Refl.  sur  Vocle);  xii,  75  ff..  105  (Pens^es  detach^es 
sur  la  peinture.  etc.);  xiv,  42o/'"E}iejiclope(lie") ;  xv,  35  tt.  ("Genie"') ; 
xix,  117   (a  Mile  Volland.  Sept.  2.  1762) ;    etc.  V.  infra,  subchapter  vi. 

^  Cf.  Hugo's  antithesis  of  the  grotesque  and  sublime. 


"LE   DRAME"  39 

cerned  in  individualizing,  in  bringing  out  the  characteristic, 
accidental  and  irregular.  Imagine  a  painted  head,  says  Diderot 
in  Ics  Dciix  amis  de  Bourbonne.  All  its  lines  are  strong,  grand 
and  regular ;  it  forms  the  rarest  and  most  perfect  whole. 
"J'eprouve,  en  lo  considerant,  du  respect,  de  I'admiration,  de 
I'effroi.  J'en  cherche  le  modele  dans  la  nature,  et  ne  I'y  trouve 
pas ;  en  comparaison  tout  est  faible,  petit  et  mesquin ;  c'est  une 
tete  ideale;  je  le  sens,  je  me  le  dis."  Now  let  the  artist  mark 
on  its  forehead  a  slight  scar  and  paint  a  wart  on  the  temple. 
From  ideal,  the  painting  has  become  a  portrait.  It  is  no  lon- 
ger \'enus,  but  my  neighbor.  Only  now  do  I  become  really 
interested."     As  the  jioet  has   said: 

A  ces  petits  defauts  marques  dans  sa  peinture 
L'esprit  avec   plaisir   reconnait   la  nature. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  understand  the  somewhat 
cryptic  soliloquy  of  Ariste'"'  which  ends  the  treatise  De  la  Pocsic 
dramatiqne  and  which,  purporting  as  it  does  to  yield  the  fruit 
of  Diderot's  deepest  meditations  concerning  the  nature  of  ideal 
beauty  in  general,  is  also  of  capital  importance  for  his  dramatic 
theory  in  particular.  The  monologue  begins  with  an  enumera- 
tion of  the  main  causes  of  the  uncertainty  of'our  ideas  of  truth, 
goodness,  and  beauty.  With  no  two  men  absolutely  alike  in 
physical  organization,  education,  mode  of  living,  social  status, 
etc.,  and  with  every  individual  undergoing  continual  "revolu- 
tions," how  can  one  speak  of  a  constant  standard  of  taste  or 
universal  notions  concerning  beauty?  Happily,  faith  in  the 
existence  of  natural  laws  and  in  the  inductive  and  deductive 
methods  of  science  saves  Ariste,  who  is  Diderot  himself,  from 
thoroughgoing  scepticism.  A  "module  hors  de  moi"  and  in 
function  of  the  constant  elements  of  nature  may  be  employed 
as  a  working  hypothesis  and  provisional  "models"  of  beauty, 
valid  for  large  groups  of  men,  may  be  framed.  We  say  "models" 
advisedly,  for  the  existence  of  one  single  "modele  general  ideal 
de  toute  perfection"  is  a  chimera.     Hoping  to  approach  absolute 

'■'v,  277;   cf.  xi,  151   (Saloji  de  1767). 

•'■vii,  300-394.     (It  may  have  originated  about  1753). 


40  DIDEIIOT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

perfection  with  the  progress  of  knowledge,  let  each  "condition" 
(writers,  philosophers,  etc.)  provisionally  frame  their  own 
model,  even  as  the  Greek  sculptors  had  done/'  (For  we  may 
surmise  that  "taste,"  now  usually  busy  imitating  existing  works 
of  art,  was  with  the  early  artists  engaged  in  observing  and  copy- 
ing Nature  when  it  still  retained  its  primitive  and  wholesome 
simplicity  and  regularity.  But  this  is  anticipating  Diderot's 
esthetic  of  the  plastic  arts)  : 

"Que  rhomme  de  lettres  se  fasse  un  modele  ideal  de 
riiomme  de  lettres  le  plus  accompli,  et  que  ce  soit  par  la 
bouche  de  cet  liomme  qu'il  juge  les  productions  des  autres 
et  les  siennes.  Que  le  philosophe  suive  le  meme  plan" 
(vii,  393). 

These  models  are  then  to  be  modified,  and  systematically 
distorted  (no  irony  is  here  intended)  according  to  circum- 
stances. The  student,  for  example,  will  have  round  shoulders, 
the  porter  strong  loins,  the  pregnant  woman  will  tilt  her  head 
backward,  etc.  The  significance  of  these  statements  will  appear 
when  we  speak  of  the  theatre   of   "conditions." 

"Voila  les  observations  qui  multipliees  a  I'infini,  forment 
le  statuaire,  et  lui  apprennent  k  alterer,  fortifier,  affaiblir, 
defigurer  et  reduire  son  modele  ideal,  de  I'Stat  de  nature  k 
tel  autre  etat  qu'il  lui  plait.  C'est  I'etude  des  passions,  des 
mceurs,  des  caracteres,  des  usages,  qui  apprendra  au  peintre 
de  rhomme  a  alterer  son  modele  et  a  le  reduire  de  I'Stat 
d'homme  a  celui  d'homme  bon  ou  mechant,  tranquille  ou 
colere.  C'est  ainsi  que  d'un  seul  simulacre  il  emanera  une 
variete  infinie  de  representations  differentes  qui  couvriront 
la  scene  ou  la  toile"    (vii,  393   f.) 

We  have  reached  the  Ultima  Thulc  of  Diderot's  poetics 
and  wdiat  do  we  discover?  An  absolute,  or  quasi-absolute  "mod- 
el of  beauty,"  an  ideal  substratum,  reminiscent  of  Nature's  pris- 
tine estate,  even  though  distorted  in  its  material  exemplifica- 
tions by  a  consequent  series  of  modifications  which  lend  it 
individuality,  character  and  passion.  Or,  again,  if  one  should 
prefer  to  start  with  the  concrete  or  particular,   Diderot  might 

^Cf.  xiii,  75;   viii,  390;   x,  12,  14-16. 


"LE   DRAME"  41 

tell  him  that  "le  beau  n'est  que  le  vrai  releve  ])ar  des  circon- 
stances  possibles,  mais  rares  et  merveilleuses." '"  Diderot  was 
everywhere  minded  to  balance  art  with  nature,  "lie"  with  truth, 
imitation  with  expression,  wit  with  genius,  reason  with  senti- 
ment, the  subjective  with  the  objective.  He  may  be  callel  with 
equal  propriety  a  Classicist  and  a  Romanticist.  Vet  his  most 
appropiate  appellation  is,  perhaps,  that  of  ideo-realist.  This 
would  recognize  the  dualistic  nature  of  his  beliefs  and  empha- 
size the  predominance  of  the  realistic  moment.  Diderot  the 
sensualist,  evolutionist,  and  vitalist,  could  not  help  being  more 
interested  in  the  "vcrrue"  than  in  general  man,  more  attracted 
liy  the  protean  and  exuberant  manifestations  of  passion  than  by 
rigidly  corect  and  inexpressive  "models."  In  spite  of  much 
he  had  in  common  with  the  Classicists,  he  would  not  have  fully 
acknowledged  the  traditional  aims  of  dramatic  art,  for  instance, 
those  proclaimed  by  Rapin : 

"La  verite  ne  fait  les  choses  que  comme  elles  sont,  et  le 
vraisemblable  les  fait  comme  elles  doivent  etre.  La  verite 
est  presque  toujours  defectueuse,  par  le  melange  des  con- 
ditions singulieres  qui  la  composent.  II  ne  nait  rien  au 
monde  qui  ne  s'eloigne  de  la  perfection  de  son  idee  en  y 
naissant.  II  faut  chercher  des  originaux  et  des  modeles  dans 
le  vraisemblable,  et  dans  les  principes  universels  des  choses, 
on  il  n'entre  rien  de  materiel  qui  les  corrompe.  C'est  par  la 
que  les  portraits  de  I'histoire  sont  moins  parfaits  que  les 
portraits   de   la  poesie"    (Riipin,   op.   cit..   ii,   137). 

The  Entreticns  and  De  la  Poesie  dramatique  are,  on  the 
contrary,  nothing  if  not  a  continual  reminder  to  the  dramatic 
"poet"  to  imitate  the  procedure  of  the  painter  of  genre,  to 
substitute  as  far  as  possible  nature  for  art,  to  set  the  "naif"— 
life  itself — on  his  canvas.  Even  later,  in  the  Salon  of  1767 
and  the  Paradoxe  sur  le  coincdien,  when  the  retour  a  I'antique 
brought  with  it  the  gran  gusto  and  Platonism,  and  Diderot 
turned  his  attention  to  historical  tragedy  and  history  painting, 
it  was  not  the  abstract  ideal  which  fascinated  Diderot,  but  the 
individual  portrait  and  picturesque  reality. 

'»xii,  125. 


42  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 


V 

THE     "POETICS"     OF     THE     "DRAMA     OF     CONDITIONS"     IS     A 

CONSISTENT     APPLICATION     OF     DIDEROT'S 

GENERAL    POETICS 

Besides  obeying  the  laws  of  general  poetics,  the  dramatic 
genre,  in  its  totaHty  as  well  as  in  its  most  representative  part, 
"drama"  proper,  has  also  laws  of  its  own.  Diderot  nowhere 
systematically  differentiated  dramatic  poetry  from  the  principal 
genres  of  narrative  poetry,  i.  e.,  epic  and  pastoral,  and  from 
the  novel.  It  is  easy  to  see,  however,  that  the  "merveillcux"  pre- 
dominates in  the  epic  and  pastoral,  which  are  therefore  beyond 
the  scope  of  our  discussion.  Aside  from  its  indirect  method  of 
presentation — it  paints  for  the  imagination  instead  of  the  eye — 
the  novel  differs  from  the  drama  by  its  "romantic  veneer,"  its 
complacence  in  events  more  improbable,  more  protracted,  more 
complicated  and  more  loosely  held  together  than  those  of  the 
drama,  which  hastily  progresses  to  a  more  or  less  tragic  end.* 
A  good  novel,  says  Diderot,  need  not  make  a  good  dramatic 
poem ;  but  one  may  always  expect  a  good  drama  to  be  turned 
into  a  superior  novel.  It  is  most  likely  that  Diderot  distin- 
guished between  the  comcdic  larmoyante  which  was  frequently 
based  on  an  improbable  novel  of  adventure  and  his  own 
"dramc,"  which  might  be  considered  the  culmination  and  con- 
densation of  a  novel  in  the  manner  of  Richardson.  Yet  it  is 
certain  that,  without  Diderot's  being  aware  of  it,  "le  vernis 
romanesque"  is  laid  thickly  in  his  own  dramas  and  that  he  had 
a  pronounced  bias  toward  melodrama. 

Coming  to  the  special  "poetics"  of  the  dramatic  genre  we 
need  not  deal  at  length  with  the  laws  which  drama  shares  with 
"poesy"  in  general.  Some  of  these  laws,  that  of  verisimilitude 
for  example,  must  be  more  heeded  by  the  dramatist  than  by  his 
fellow  artists.  (The  burlesque  and  fantastic  are,  of  course, 
disregarded  in  our  discussion.)     In  the  Bijoux  indiscrets,  Dide- 

'Cf.  vii,  330,  88,  156,  349;  iv,  285;  vi.  43,  239;  v,  220,  221.  Cf. 
Corr.  lift.,  ii,  333  f.,  377  (of  Mme  de  Graffigny) ;  Beaumarchais,  Ess. 
s.  le  genre  dramatigue;  and  Mercier,  Du  Theatre,  p.   106,  140. 


"LE  DRAME"  43 

rot  IkuI  demanded  "so  exact  an  imitation  of  action  that  the 
continually  deceived  spectator  would  imagine  he  is  witnessing 
real  facts."  The  Iintrcticns  and  Dc  la  pocsic  are  equally  cate- 
goric ;  actions,  characters,  scenery,  acting,  declamation,  must 
faithfully  imitate  real  life: 

"Des  habits  vrais,  des  discours  vrais,  une  intrigue  simple 
et  naturelle"   (vii.  120). 

"II  n'y  a  rien  de  ce  qui  se  passe  dans  le  monde  qui  ne 
puisse  avoir  lieu  sur  la  scene"    (vii,  378). 

"La  maitresse  de  Barnwell  entre  echevelee  dans  la  prison 
de  son  amant.  Les  deux  amis  s'embrassent  et  tombent  k  terre. 
Philoctete  se  roulait  autrefois  a  I'entree  de  sa  caverne.  II 
y  faisait  entendre  les  cris  inarticul6s  de  la  douleur.  Ces 
cris  formaient  un  vers  peu  nombreux;  mais  les  entrailles  du 
spectateur  en  etaient  dechirees.  Avons-nous  plus  de  delica- 
tesse   et   plus   de   genie   que   les   Atheniens?"    (vii,   95    f.) 

As  a  rule,  Diderot  speaks  as  if  no  selection  need  be  made 
of  the  "nature"  that  is  to  be  represented  dramatically.  Cer- 
tainly, no  emotion  can  be  strong  enough :  he  dreamed  of  "giv- 
ing torture  to  the  spectator,  as  it  were."  ^  Colle  said  of  Saurin's 
drama,  Bcverlci,  that  "elle  attache,  mais  elle  n'interesse  nulle- 
ment.  On  n'y  est  point  attendri,  mais  oppresse;  on  n'y  pleurt 
pas,  on  etouffe;  on  en  sort  avec  le  cauchemar."  "^  He  found 
in  it  a  "peinture  trop  vraie  et  par  cette  raison  trop  effrayante  et 
trop  revbltante."  To  this  Diderot  would  have  surely  retorted: 
"Ou'ils  se  fassent  a  ces  emotions-la !" 

"Moi. — Qui  sait  si  nous  irions  chercher  au  theatre  des 
impressions  aussi  fortes?  On  veut  etre  attendri, 
touche,   effray6;    mais  jusqu'a   un   certain   point. 

Dorval. — Pour  juger  sainement,  expliquons-nous.  Quel  est 
I'objet    d'une   composition    dramatique? 

Moi. — C'est,  je  crois,  d'inspirer  aux  hommes  I'amour  de  la 
vertu,   I'horreur  du  vice  . . . 

Dorval. — Ainsi,  dire  qu'il  ne  faut  les  emouvoir  que  jusqu'^ 
un   certain   point,   c'est  pretendre  qu'il   ne   faut  qu'ils 

=  vii.  96,  149.  314. 

^  Colle,  Journal  et  m^moires.  ed.  Bonhomme,   III,  95. 


44  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

sortent  d'un  spectacle,  trop  epris  de  la  vertu,  trop 
eloignes  du  vice.  II  n'y  aurait  point  de  poetique 
pour  un  peuple  qui  serait  aussi  pusillanime.  Que 
serait-ce  que  le  gout;  ct  que  I'art  deviendrait-il,  si 
Ton  se  refusait  a  son  energie,  et  si  Ton  posait  des 
barrieres  arbitraires  a  ses  effets?"    (vii,   148   f.) 

Yet  Diderot  is  not  a  naturalist  in  the  sense  in  which  we  apply 
this  term  to  the  author  of  Thcrcsc  Raqiiin.  .Perhaps  we  ought 
to  say  that,  like  Zola  and  M.  Antoine,  he  was  less  of  a  liber- 
tarian than  he  thought.  Diderot  explicitly  admits,  to  begin 
with,  that 

"La  verite...est  souvent  froide  comme  elle  est  commune 
et  plate...  S'il  faut  etre  vrai,  c'est  comme  Moliere,  Regnard, 
Richardson,  Sedaine;  la  verite  a  ses  cotes  piquants,  qu'on 
saisit  quand  on  a  du  genie"    (vi,   43,  Jacques   Ic  Fataliste). 

More  than  any  other  poet,  the  dramatist  must  try  and  "extend 
the  sphere  of  our  pleasures,"'  he  must  select  not  only  "les 
sensations  les  plus  fortes"  but  also  "les  plus  agreables.""  Diderot 
recognized  that  the  disgusting  and  atrocious  must  be  placed  in 
a  poetic  light  before  they  are  acceptable  to  art ;  that  artistic 
verisimilitude  is  something  beyond  mere  truth  to  fact.  There 
are  things,  moreover,  which  the  dramatist  may  allude  to — thus 
turning  narrative  poet — but  cannot  resurrect  before  our  eyes, 
because  our  senses  will  react  to  the  physical,  instead  of  the 
esthetic,  impression.  Some  things  must  be  accentuated,  others 
toned  down  when  transported  from  real  life  on  to  the  stage. 
This  is  why,  in  spite  of  his  professed  libertarianism,  Diderot 
could  beg  of  Voltaire  not  to  place  a  scaffold  on  the  stage : 

"On  dit  que  Mile  Clairon  demande  un  echafaud  dans 
la  decoration;  ne  le  souffrez  pas.  morbleu!  Cest  pent  etre 
une  belle  chose  en  soi;  mais  si  le  genie  eleve  jamais  une 
potence  sur  la  scene,  bientot  les  imitateurs  y  accrocheront  le 
pendu  en  personne"   (xix,  459,  November  28,  1760). 

^vii,  151. 

'vii.  312.     Cf.  X,  492  (Essai  sur  la  peinture,  about  1765);  xi,  173 
(Salon  de  1767). 


"LE  DRAME"  45 

"II  y  a  de  la  difference  entre  la  plaisanterle  de  theatre 
et  la  plaisanterle  de  societe.  Celle-ci  serait  trop  faible  sur 
la  scSne,  et  n'y  ferait  aucun  effet,  I'autre  serait  trop  dure 
dans  le  monde,  et  elle  offenserait.  L.e  cynisme,  si  odieux, 
si  incommode  dans  la  societe,  est  excellent  sur  la  sc6ne" 
(vii,  363;  cf.  viii,  3S9). 

"Si  un  valet  parle  sur  la  scene  comme  dans  la  societe 
11  est  maussade;   s'il  parle  autreraent  il  est  faux"    (vii,  137). 

Xay,  interesting  reality  and  the  "verisimilar"  (in  the  phys- 
ical sense)  may  look  shabby  when  carried  to  the  stage;  they 
may  not  appear  poetic  enough.  Diderot  says  as  much  in  the 
Troisicnic  cntrcticn  when  he  advises  the  dramatist  to  paint  for 
the  imagination,  that  is  to  say,  relate  those  incidents  which  can- 
not produce  "illusion"  when  directly  presented."  Racine  did 
this  in  the  last  act  of  Iphigenic'  No  actor,  be  he  ever  so  gifted, 
could  personate  the  frenzied  Calchas,  his  hair  l)ristling  on 
his  head  in  the  terrible  attitude  suggested  by  the  poet.  No  arti- 
ficial spectacle  could  conjure  up,  as  does  the  poet's  account, 
the  light  of  day  obscured  by  the  multitude  of  darts  of  a  whole 
army  in  tumult,  the  earth  besprinkled  with  blood,  a  princess 
with  a  poniard  thrust  in  her  breast,  the  winds  unleashed,  the 
skies  ablaze  with  lightning,  a  foaming  and  roaring  sea.  Even 
if  the  audience  could  be  made  to  see  them,  these  things  would 
contrast  with  the  prosaic  realism  of  the  rest  of  the  spectacle, 
to  the  detriment  of  verisimilitude.  This  example  is  taken  from 
the  "tragedie  connue,  je  ne  peux  tirer  mes  exemples  d'un  genre 
qui  n'existe  pas  encore  parmi  nous."  A  fortiori,  the  principles 
he  defends  hold  true  of  the  more  realistic  "tragedie  domes- 
tique." 

The  truth  of  the  theatre,  like  that  of  "poetry"  in  general, 
is  hypothetical,  truth  of  impression  or  "illusion"  entailing  a 
certain  amount  of  "intellectual  exaggeration."'  It  falls  short 
of  verism  and  admits  of  conventions: 

"Je  vous  ai  lu  [Diderot  tells  Dorval.  the  supposed  author 
of  Le  Fils  naturel] :  mais  je  suis  bien  trompe,  ou  vous 
ne     vous     etes     pas     attache     a     repondre     scrupuleusement 

«vii,  147  f.  'Act  V.  sc.  7.  "vii.  148. 


46  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

aux  intentions  de  monsieur  votre  pere.  II  vous  avail  recom- 
mande,  ce  me  semble,  de  rendre  les  choses  comme  elles 
s'etaient  passees;  et  j'en  ai  remarque  plusieurs  qui  ont  un 
caractere  de  fiction  qui  n'en  impose  qu'au  theatre,  ou  Ton 
dirait  qu'il  y  a  une  illusion  et  des  applaudissements  de  con- 
vention. D'abord  vous  vous  etea  asservi  a  la  loi  des 
unites.  .  ."   (vii,  87). 

Dorval  admitted  that  so  many  events  could  not  all  happen  in 
the  same  place,  within  twenty-four  hours,  and  in  exactly  the 
same  sequence  as  in  the  play.     But,  he  asked  in  turn : 

". . .  Si  le  fait  a  dure  quinze  jours,  croyez-vous  qu'il  fallut 
accorder  la  meme  duree  a  la  representation?  Si  les  €vene- 
ments  en  ont  ete  separes  par  d'autres,  qu'il  etait  a  propos 
de  rendre  cette  confusion?  Et  s'ils  se  sont  passes  en  diffe- 
rents  endroits  de  la  maison,  que  je  devais  aussi  les  repandre 
sur  !e  meme  espace?"    (vii,  87). 

In  life,  continues  Dorval,  our  actions  constitute  a  series 
of  rather  insignificant  incidents,  which  a  novel  may  reproduce, 
but  which,  admitted  upon  the  stage,  would  kill  all  interest  in 
X  the  play.  "Au  theatre,  ou  Ton  ne  represente  que  des  instants 
particuliers  de  la  vie  reelle,  il  faut  que  nous  y  soyons  tout  en- 
tiers  a  la  meme  chose.""  The  "laws  of  three  unities"  are  there- 
fore "reasonable  {sensecs),"  although  difficult  to  observe.'* 
And  Diderot  would  see  them  introduced  even  in  the  opera. 

"Je  serais  fache  d'avoir  pris  quelque  liceoce  contraire  k 
ces  principes  generaux  de  I'unite  de  temps  et  de  I'unite 
d'action,  et  je  pense  qu'on  ne  peut  etre  trop  severe  sur  I'unite 
de  lieu.  Sans  cette  unite,  la  conduite  d'une  piece  est  presque 
toujours  embarrassee,  louche"   (vii,  88). 

Nature  is  diverse  but  a  work  of  art  must  be  one.  "Rien 
n'est  beau  s'il  n'est  un."  "  Diderot  is  very  prodigal  of  unities. 
Resides  the  famous  three  and  that  of  interest,  there  is,  for 
instance,  the  unity  of  "color" ;  "C'est  le  premier  incident  qui 
decidera  de  la  couleur  de  I'ouvrage  entier."  ''  This  may  or  may 
not  be  the  same  as  the  important  unity  of  impression  which  is 
specific  to  each  genre.     Then,  there  are   in  the  personages  of 

-vii,  88.  '"vii,  87.  "vii,  347.  -^^^g  'iia„ 


"LE  DRAME"  47 

tlic  drama  lesser  unities  of  tone,  character,  accent.  In  short, 
in  a  play  "tout  est  enchaine" — practically  Taine's  principle  of 
convergence  of  effects. 

Unfortunately,  in  so  numerous  and  nondescript  a  company 
the  classical  unities  lose  caste.  In  characteristic  fashion,  after 
having  proclaimed  them,  Diderot  set  about  to  undermine  them, 
beginning  with  the  best  entrenched,  the  unity  of  place.  Like 
La  Alotte  before  and  Hugo  after  hitn,  he  paid  tribute  of  scorn 
to  a  stage  in  which  courtiers  conspire  against  the  ruler  in  the 
very  hall  to  which  they  lia\e  been  called  by  him.  Since  the 
drai)iatis  persoiiac  remain,  sneeringly  remarks  Diderot,  we  are 
asked  to  imagine  that  the  place  has  gone.  Would  we  had  a 
stage  in  which  "the  setting  would  change  whenever  the  action 
must  change."  "  Elsewhere  he  wishes  for  a  stage  in  which  two 
actions,  in  different  settings,  could  be  simultaneously  repro- 
duced." The  unity  of  time  is  even  less  binding.  \Ye  have 
already  seen  that  the  unity  of  impression  permitted  the  admix- 
ture of  joy  and  sadness.  The  unity  of  action,  too,  was  bound 
to  suffer  at  the  hands  of  Diderot,  owing  to  his  secret  predi- 
lection for  very  complicated  plots  and  biographic  details.  Xor 
did  he  wax  enthusiastic  over  the  unity  of  character  f'  he  admits 
the  possibility  of  character  development  in  the  complex  drama. 
Let  us  conclude  that,  as  long  as  regularity  was  necessary  to  a 
system  which  was  to  enter  the  sanctum  of  the  Comedie-Fran- 
(^aise,  it  was  professed  ad  hoc;  but  that  while  Diderot  con- 
sidered organic  unity  to  be  essential  to  a  drama  or  to  anv 
other  work  of  art.  he  had  neither  "undue  respect  nor  undue 
contempt"  for  the  classic  "unities." 

We  may  also  note  here  another  manifestation  of  Diderot's 
realism,  namely  his  rejection  of  the  supernatural.  Christian  and 
jiagan :  "II  y  a  trop  peu  de  foi  sur  la  terre.  Kt  puis,  nos 
diables  sont  d'une  figure  is  gothique,  de  si  mauvais  gout."  "Le 
sortilege,"  "la  superstition  nationale,"  deny  truth  of  fact — 
"I'ordre  universel  des  choses,  qui  doit  servir  de  base  a  la  raison 
poetique."    Accordingly,  they  are  out  of  place,  even  on  the  lyric 


13 


vii,  88.  "vii,  116.  ■■'vii,  .^69. 


48  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

stage."  Are  not  these  affirmations  dictated  by  extra-esthetical 
considerations  ?  And  why  did  our  philosopher  admit  Christian 
and  pagan  miracles  to  pictorial  representation?  It  is  difficult 
to  answer  with  certainty.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  in  sanc- 
tioning as  he  did  the  supernatural  in  painting,"  Diderot  merely 
acknowledged  a  fait  accompli;  on  the  other  hand,  putting  reli- 
gion on  the  stage  might  entail  dangerous  consequences  from 
the  Philosophers'  point  of  view.  Furthermore,  he  may  have 
believed  that,  owing  to  its  less  material  medium,  painting  is 
better  suited  for  the  representation  of  events  which  are  real 
only  in  the  minds  of  believers,  for  theatrical  "machines"  are 
coarse  things  and  too  suggestive  of  deceit. 

Diderot's  endeavors  in  behalf  of  realistic  representation  of 
vehement  passions  led  to  his  preconizing  the  lavish  employment 
of  dumb  scenes  and  picturesque  "tableaux"  in  lieu  of  roma- 
nesque  ''coups  dc  theatre"  and  unnatural  "tirades"  "  Great  pas- 
sions, said  Diderot,  are  silent  or  monosyllabic ;  their  rhetoric 
is  confined  to  a  few  sentences  or  fragments  of  sentences,  said 
over  and  over.  (He  was  also  thinking  of  the  lyric  theatre  of 
Metastasio.)  Not  only  might  the  silent  moments,  so  numerous 
in  the  drama  of  passion,  be  filled  up  with  expressive  mimicry; 
but  dumb  scenes  could  be  employed  simviltaneously  or  alter- 
nately with  the  spoken,  to  enhance  dramatic  effect  and  speed 
the  progress  of  action.  Diderot  employed  this  scenic  method — 
unfortunately  with  ludicrous  result — in  his  "tragic"  version  of 
le  Fils  naturel.^^ 

He  demanded  of  the  dramatic  poet  always  to  visualize  his 
scenes  before  writing  them  down. 

"Pour  moi,  je  ne  congois  pas  comment  le  poete  peut 
commencer  une  scene,  s'il  n'imagine  pas  Taction  et  le  mouve- 
ment  du  personnage  qu'il  introduit;  si  sa  demarche  et  son 
masque  ne  lui  sont  pas  presents.  C'est  ce  simulacre  qui 
inspire,  le  premier  mot,  et  le  premier  mot  donne  le  reste" 
(vii,  260;  cf.  3S6). 

'«vii,  155,  157;   viii,  474   (review  of  Hamlet,  translated  by  Duels). 
"Of.  X,  492.  >^vii,  94,   105,  116,   145.  >^  vii,  141  ff. 


"LE   DRAME"  49 

The  "tableaux"  Diderot  makes  so  much  of  are  the  application 

to  pantoniinio  of  the  "law  s  of  jiicturesque  composition."  Accord- 
ing to  him,  it  is  ahsunl  to  say  they  retard  dramatic  action.  Had 
Diderot  lived  to  sec  the  pliotoplay  he  would  have  hailed  it  as 
something  he  had  predicted  and  wished   for : 

"Ah!  si  nous  avions  des  theatres  oH  la  dt'^coratlon  chan- 
geat  toutes  les  fois  que  le  lieu  de  la  sc6ne  dolt  changer!" 
(vii,  88). 

"Si  le  spectateur  est  au  theatre  comme  devant  une  toile, 
oil  des  tableaux  divers  se  succ^deraient  par  enchantement, 
pourquoi  le  philosophe  qui  s'assied  sur  les  pieds  du  lit  de 
Socrate,  et  qui  craint  de  le  voir  mourir,  ne  serait-il  pas 
aussi  pathetique  sur  la  scene,  que  la  femme  et  la  fille  d'Eu- 
damidas  dans  le  tableau  de  Poussin?  Appliquez  les  lois  de  la 
composition  pittoresque  a  la  pantomime  et  vous  verrez  que 
que  ce  sont  les  memes . . .  Mais  je  jette  ces  vues  pour  ma 
satisfaction  particuliere  et  la  votre.  Je  ne  pense  pas  que 
nous  aimions  jamais  assez  les  spectacles  pour  en  venir  1^" 
(vii,  385). 

Diderot  exhibited  some  embarrassment  as  to  the  dramatic 
vehicle  of  expression.  He  asked  himself  whether  domestic 
tragedy  might  not  be  written  in  verse.  Though  he  answered 
Xo,  he  owned  he  was  at  a  loss  for  a  good  reason.  It  is  diffi- 
cult, however,  to  believe  that  none  such  was  contained  in  the 
questions  he  asked  in  this  connection,  especially  in  the  last  two : 

"La  verite  du  sujet  et  la  violence  de  I'interet  rejet- 
teraient-elles  un  langage  symetrise?  La  condition  des  per- 
sonnages  serait-elle  trop  voisine  de  la  notre,  pour  admettre 
une  harmonic  reguliere?"  (vii,  332). 

Most  "dramaturgists"**  did  not  hesitate  to  avail  themselves  of 
these  arguments  to  recommend  prose  as  the  legitimate  medium 
of  dramatic  expression.  It  is  therefore  all  the  more  remarkable 
that  Diderot  should  have  evinced  some  hesitation  in  adopting 
them.     He  must  have  seen  an  alternative  to  the  exclusive  em- 

^'  Beaumarchais.  LJssai  sur  Ir  f/rnrr  dram,  srrieux;  Mercier,  Du 
ThHtre,  ch.  26;  de  Falbaire,  Pref.  to  Ic  Fairicant  de  Londres; 
Sedaine,  Pref.  to  Maillarrl.     Vt  Gaiffe,  Jc  Drame,  p.  483  ff. 


50  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

ployment  of  prose  form  since  he  asked:  "Ce  genre  exigerait-il 
un  style  particulier  dont  je  n'ai  pas  la  notion?"  As  these  words 
would  not  fit  the  verse  of  lyric  coupe  and  varying  number  of 
syllables  which  some  of  Diderot's  fellow-dramatists  employed, 
it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  had  some  hazy  notion  of  a  sort  of  vers 
libre  or  "poesie  rytlimique"^^  resembling  now  the  verse  of 
Aletastasio,  now  the  blank  verse  of  Shakespeare,  now  poetic 
prose,  according  to  personages  and  dramatic  situations.  This 
conjecture  is  upheld  by  what  Grimm  says  in  a  paper  in  the 
Correspondance  litter  aire  of  1767."  He  there  pretends  to  settle 
an  anticipated  quarrel  between  Diderot  and  Saint-Lambert  as 
to  whether  prose  is  more  suitable  than  verse  for  the  "dratne 
serieux."  The  odds  are  in  favor  of  Diderot's  agreeing  to 
Grimm's   contention   that 

"II  ne  peut  pas  etre  question  s'il  faut  ecrire  les  pieces 
de  theatre  en  prose,  lorsque  dans  une  langue  la  poesie  peut 
avoir  tous  les  avantages  de  la  prose  combines  avec  les  avan- 
tages  qui  lui  soat  propres.  II  est  visible  qu'il  faut  donner 
alors  la  preference  a  la  poesie." 

When  poetry  has  the  simplicity,  facility,  flexibility,  concision, 
naturalness  and  rapidity  of  prose  it  should  be  preferred,  but 
not  otherwise : 

"Je  serais  bien  fache  que  Metastasio  eut  ecrit  de  la 
prose,  je  serais  bien  fache  que  Terence  n'eut  pas  ecrit  en 
vers,  mais  quels  vers!"    (Corr.   litt.,  vii,  415). 

Who  can  doubt,  (Jrimm  went  on,  that  French  comic  poetry ,^ 
even  in  its  best  representative,  Regnard,  is  too  ornate,  too  ver- 
bose, too  symmetrical,  too  epic  in  short,"  to  constitute  good 
dramatic  poetry  ?  Not  Diderot,  we  are  sure.  And  we  may 
surmise  that,  like  Grimm,  he  was  not  loath  to  employ  verse  in 
the  "dramatic  poem,"  provided  the  verse  was  as  natural  and 
poetic  as  he  conceived  his  own  prose  to  be.  The  following  lines 
from  the  Second  entretien  do  not  contradict  our  hypothesis : 

"Cf.  vi,  336. 

"^Corr.    litt.,    vii,    415    f.    (Sept.    15,    1767);    cf.    ibid.,    viii,    460    ff. 
(Feb.  15,  1770). 

="Cf.  also  Diderot,  viii,  406. 


"LE   DRAME"  51 

"Les  Anglais  ont  Ic  Manhaiid  dc  Londrcs  et  Ic  Joucur, 
tragMies  en  prose.  Les  tragedies  de  Shakespeare  sunt  nioitiS 
vers  et  nioitie  prose.  Le  premier  poCte  qui  nous  fit  rire  avec 
de  la  prose,  introduisit  la  prose  dans  la  comf^die.  Le  premier 
po^te  qui  nous  fera  pleurer  avec  de  la  prose,  introduira  la 
prose  dans  la  trag^die"   (vii,  120). 

But  whilst  Grimm  was  for  vers  librc,  Mercier,  on  the 
other  hand,  recommended  to  the  dramatists  the  "poetry"  of 
ri-lnnaque  and  la  Nouvclle  Hclo'ise;  and  his  point  of  view  was 
shared  by  Marmontel.""  This  is  not  surprising  in  view  of  the 
success  of  the  doctrine  of  poetic  prose  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury." The  two  solutions,  that  of  Mercier  and  that  of  Grimm, 
are  not  mutually  exclusive,  and  were  probably  reconciled  by 
Diderot  who  had  an  exquisite  feeling  for  the  vague  and  touch- 
ing intimations  conveyed  by  poetic  harmony  and  regarded  rhyme 
as  a  secondary  character  of  poetry.'*  Diderot  would  not  have 
been  at  a  loss  to  justify  a  more  exalted  and  lyrical  style  of  dra- 
matic expression  than  ordinary  prose.  "Nothing  makes  one  so 
eloquent  as  misfortune,""  said  he,  and  Beaumarchais  added  in 
Diderotian  vein  that  the  style  of  a  personage  in  mortal  danger 
is  a  little  greater  than  nature.  Moreover,  j)assion  speaks  the 
language  of  nature,  which  is  lyrical,  according  to  Diderot.  / 
After  all,  it  is  likely  that  he  owned  with  (irimm  and  in  anti- 
cipation of  Hugo,  that  genius  knows  wh.ich  form  best  suits 
its  efforts. 

It  v;ould  be  idle  to  go  through  the  whole  of  the  "poetics" 
of  the  serious  genre.  Diderot's  proscription  of  the  tradit'ona^ 
comic  valets," —  "Sont-ce  les  mceurs  qu'on  avait  il  y  a  deux 
mille  ans  ou  les  notres,  qu'il  faut  imiter?" — the  details  of  ]iis 
views  as  to  costume,  decoration  and  acting,  though  quite  \\el- 
come  in  their  time,  afford  no  new  theoretical  principle^.  Dide- 
rot's remarks  on  the  proprhun  of  drama  and  tragedy,  /.  e..  the 

=^0n  Marmontel,  cf.  V.  Lenel,  Marmontcl  (Paris,  1902),  p.  338 
ff.,  B.  Petermann,  Der  Streit  um  Vers  und  Prosn  (Berlin,  1913), 
p.  69  ff. 

-■  D.  Mornet.  in  Rev.  d'Hist.  lift.,  xxi  (1914),  p.  .593.  Cf.  h:3. 
Sentiment  de  In  nature  en  Franee  (Paris,  1907),  p.  408  ff. 

"Cf.  vii,  328,  332;   xi,  331. 

"vii,  113.  "'Cf.  vii,  137,  90. 


52  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

tragic  or  dramatic  conflict  are  of  greater  interest.  Unfortu- 
nately, they  are  made  in  passing  and  the  prevoiling  confusion 
between  the  drama  in  general,  serious  comedy,  bourgeoise  and 
heroic  tragedy  does  not  make  for  clearness. 

Diderot  established  as  a  general  observation  that  "if  there 
is  anything  touching,  it  is  the  sight  of  a  man  rendered  unhappy 
or  guilty  through  no  fault  of  his  own."  Fate  and  the  gods 
were  the  agents  of  perdition  known  to  ancient  tragedy.  Men 
take  their  place  in  the  modern.  Yet  he  was  no  believer  in  Schik- 
salsstragocdie : 

"II  faut  que  les  hommes  fassent,  dans  la  comedie,  le  role 
que  font  les  dieux  dans  la  tragedie.  La  fatalite  et  la  mechan- 
cete,  voila,  dans  I'un  et  I'autre  genre,  les  bases  de  I'interet 
dramatique"   (vii,  330). 

The  true  dramatic  situation,  we  are  once  told,  is  that  in  which 
all  the  incidents  add  to  the  misfortune  of  a  principal  personage 
who  is  "gemissant  et  passif;  c'est  lui  qui  parle,  et  ce  sont  les 
autres  qui  agissent."  ^'  Diderot  may  have  had  in  mind  his  own 
Pere  de  famille  when  he  wrote  these  lines.  But  the  protagonist 
of  his  historic  tragedy  T^r^w^ia  is  anything  but  a  lachrymose  and 
passive  character.  It  may  be  that  Diderot  was  led  to  formulate 
this  too  absolute  rule  by  his  conviction  that  "movement  is 
always  detrimental  to  dignity,  wherefore  the  chief  dramatic 
character  should  but  seldom  be  the  'machiniste'  of  the  play."  * 
Yet  his  theory  of  "conditions"  makes  it  plausible  that  what 
Diderot  really  meant  was  that  the  tragic  situation  par  excellence 
is  that  of  a  man,  good  at  heart,  but  worsted  in  the  conflict  with 
his  social  environment.  The  hero  need  not  be  altogether  passive 
in  the  contest,  although  he  will  suffer  in  it  and  react  against 
situations  rather  than  originate  them. 

Diderot  says  very  little  about  the  ethics  of  tragic  conflict 
beyond  what  we  have  already  noted.  It  may  be  worth  mention- 
ing, however,  that  in  the  article  "Beau,"  he  ascribed  to  the 
"Hutchesonians"  certain  propositions  in  which,  he  says,  every- 
body concurred,  viz.,   that  by  a   moral   character   Aristotle  did 


:iy 


Vii,  356.  ="viii.  38. 


"LE  DRAME"  53 

not  mean  a  \irtuou^  person;  that  a  fabiila  bene  niorata  is  an 
epic  or  dramatic  poem  in  which  action,  sentiments,  and  speeches 
agree  with  the  characters,  good  or  evil.  Yet  goodness  pleases 
in  itself,  and  should  be  given  preference. 

"La  seule  exception  qiril  y  ait  peut  §tre  h  cette  r&gle 
c'est  le  cas  oil  la  conformity  de  la  peinture  avec  I'^tat  du 
spectateur  gagnant  tout  ce  qu'on  ote  k  la  beauts  absolue  du 
module,  la  peinture  en  devient  d'autant  plus  int^ressante; 
cet  inti^ret  qui  nalt  de  I'imperfection,  est  la  raison  pour 
laquelle  on  a  voulu  que  le  heros  d'un  po6me  ^pique  ou  h6ro- 
ique  ne  soit  pas  sans  defaut"   (x,  16). 

In  j^hort,  Diderot  admits  in  his  heroes  a  moral  "verrue"  on  a 
basis  of  primitive  and  natural  goodness,"  but  he  prefers  to  see 
in  serious  comedy  "the  trials  and  sorrows  of  virtue,"  and  in 
domestic  tragedy  its  despair.  Here  too  he  pointed  the  way  to 
the  melodrama. 

A  tragic  situation  attains  its  maximum  of  energ)^  and  effect 
in  conjunction  with  a  carefully  laid  out  plot.  Diderot  enjoined 
the  dramatist  to  begin  by  sketching  his  "plan"  or  plot^'  and  dis- 
tinguished between  the  simple  and  the  complex  plot.  He  paid 
his  tribute  of  admiration  to  the  simple  tragedies  of  the  ancients. 
Yet  he  was  also  pleased  with,  and  perhaps  secretly  preferred, 
the  complex,^  in  w^hich  the  characters  act  instead  of  developing, 
speeches  are  scanty  and  numerous  incidents  make  for  interest 
and  rapidity.  (We  have  in  fact  an  imbroglio  of  Diderot's  which 
is  past  comprehension.) 

Whether  tlie  ])lot  be  simple  or  complex,  the  great  law  of 
determinism  consistently  applied  supplies  the  proper  motivations 
of  dramatic  incidents  and  suggests  some  of  the  situations.  The 
next  step  in  the  construction  of  a  drama  after  the  plot  is  out- 
lined is  characterization,  which,  as  shown  later,  is  made  by  keep- 
ing in  mind  the  situations  the  dramatic  personages  are  to  be 
placed  in  and  their  "conditions."  Moreover,  on  the  stage,  as  in 
real  life,  each  personage  has  his  own  way  of  pursuing  his  inte- 

^•vii,  131. 

^^vii,  332.    Cf.  Aristotle  to  whom  Diderot  refers. 
"Cf.   Beaumarchais'  drame  mixte,    (Pref.   to  La  Merc   coupable) ; 
V.  Gaiffe,  op.  cit.,  p.  464. 


'54  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

rests  and  a  "ton"  of  his  own,  indicative  of  the  "passion  domi- 
nantc"  and  showing  in  everything  he  or  she  says.  Dorval,  for 
instance,  "avait  le  ton  de  la  melancoHe ;  Constance,  le  ton  de  la 
raison;  Rosalie,  celui  de  I'ingenuite;  Clairville,  celui  de  la  pas- 
sion, moi  [Diderot],  celui  de  la  bonhomie."**  Character  should 
inspire  the  "mots  dc  caracterc."  "^  In  fact,  "les  caracteres  etant 
donnes,  les  discours  sont  uns."  Diderot  attached  importance  also 
to  the  cris  dc  profession,  which  "often  disguise  the  accent  of 
character." —  The  scenario  and  character  being  determined,  the 
dramatist  must  next  w^rite  his  scenes  in  order,  from  first  to  last. 
Keeping  order  is  essential,  since  in  art,  as  in  nature,  that  which 
precedes  must  determine  what  follows.  If  the  action  progresses 
through  the  necessity  of  characters  and  circumstances,  dramatic 
effect  is  assured;  interest  is  increased  if  the  outcome  of  the 
tragic  conflict  is  expected."^  As  we  see,  Diderot  took  to  heart 
the  lesson  of  Aristotle  according  to  whom  the  plot  was  the  seed 
and  also  the  end  of  tragedy. 

This  brings  us  at  last  to  the  principal  dramatic  innovation 
of  Diderot,  his  substitution,  or  rather  subordination  and  oppo- 
sition of  "caractere"  to  "condition,"  a  formula  which  calls  for 
some  preliminary  explanation. 

Diderot  sought  to  justify  the  secondary  role  he  assigned 
to  character  by  denying  the  existence  of  original  types  in  the 
society  of  his  time.  "Une  assimilation  qui  brouille  tous  les 
rangs,  I'uniformite  nationale,  voila  la  raison  pour  laquelle  la 
comedie  est  difficile  a  faire  parmi  nous."  Under  such  circum- 
stances Diderot  felt  that  he  was  rendering  a  genuine  service  to 
dramatic  artists  in  inviting  them  to  take  cognizance  of  social 
functions,  constantly  multiplied  by  the  increasing  complexity  of 
society.^'  Keeping  to  the  beaten  track  of  character-painting 
entailed  either  loss  of  originality — the  basic  characters  are  very 
few  in  number"^  and  had  already  been  staged — or  else  waste  of 

**vii,  168. 

="vi,  303,  306   (Satire  /,  sur  les  Caracteres). 
«'vii,  341.  ='vii,  151. 

='vii.  149.    Cf.  Voltaire,  Siccle  de  Louis  XIV,   ch.   32;    d'Alembert 
held  the  same  view. 


"LE   DRAME"  55 

the  artists'  energy  on  shades  and  details,  on  the  surface  of 
things  instead  of  their  philosophic  depth.  Above  all,  the  com- 
edy of  "conditions"  is  more  efficacious  morally: 

"Pour  peu  que  le  caractSre  fOt  charge,  un  spectateur 
pouvait  se  dire  <i  lui-meme,  ce  n'est  pas  moi.  Mais  11  ne 
peut  se  cacher  que  I'etat  qu'on  joue  devant  lui  ne  soit  le 
sien;  il  ne  peut  m^connaftre  ses  devoirs.  II  faut  absolument 
qu'il  s'applique  ce  qu'il  entend"  (vli,  150.  Cf.  supra,  sub- 
chapter iii). 

But  these  considerations  are  too  general  to  go  to  the  heart 
of  the  matter.  Diderot  starts  out  with  the  following  two  basic 
axioms : 

"C'est   aux  situations  a  decider   des  caractSres.  Le   plan 

d'un    drame    peut    etre    fait    et    bien    fait,    sans    que  le    po6te  \y^ 

sache    rien    encore    du    caractere    qu'il    attachera    h  ses    per- 
sonnages"   (vii,  347). 

Characterization  in  the  drama  exists  for  the  sake  of  dra- 
matic situations.  While  novelists  might  paint  character  por- 
traits, dramatists  ought  never  to  forget  that  the  business 
proper  of  drama  is  dramatic  action.  Hitherto,  dramatic 
authors  (notably  Destouches)  had  abused  the  contrast  of 
character,  without  noticing  that  too  evident  a  contrast  is 
unnatural  and  detrimental  to  the  unity  of  a  play."*  A  truer  and 
more  dramatic  opposition  is  that  of  character  to  situation, 

"Le  veritable  contraste,  c'est  celui  des  caractSres  avec 
les  situations;  c'est  celui  des  interets  avec  les  interets.  Si 
vous  rendez  Alceste  amoureux  que  ce  soit  d'une  coquette, 
Harpagon,   d'une  fille  pauvre"    (vii,  348). 

Now,  one  of  the  most  frequent  situations  people  find  them- 
selves in  is  the  discharge  of  social  and  professional  duties. 
Diderot  employs  the  word  "condition"  to  designate  the  various 
social  functions,  /.  c,  professions,  social  station  and  family 
relationships.  *"  Accordingly,  the  axiom,  "C'est  aux  situations 
a  decider  des  caracteres,"  entails  the  determination  (and  oppo- 
sition)  of  character  by  "condition" : 

''vii,  349  f.  *'vii,  151. 


56  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

"Ce  ne  sont  plus,  a  proprement  parler,  les  caracteres 
qu'il  faut  mettre  sur  la  scene,  mais  les  conditions.  Jusqu'a 
present,  dans  la  com6die,  le  caractere  a  6te  I'objet  principal 
et  la  condition  n'a  6t6  que  I'accessoire.  C'est  du  caractere 
qu'on  tirait  toute  I'intrigue.  On  cherchait  en  general  les 
circonstances  qui  le  faisaient  sortir,  et  Ton  enchainait  ces 
circonstances.  C'est  la  condition,  ses  devoirs,  ses  avantages, 
ses  embarras,  qui  doivent  servir  de  base  a  I'ouvrage.  II 
me  semble  que  cette  source  est  plus  feconde,  plus  etendue 
et  plus  utile  que  le  caractere"  (vii,  150). 

The  French  stage,  Diderot  goes  on  to  say,  has  known 
financiers,  judges,  fathers,  etc.  But  the  financier  as  such,  the 
judge,  the  father,  etc.  have  been  ignored  and  must  now  be  intro- 
duced upon  it.  Instead  of  painting  portraits  of  individuals,  or 
even  concentrating  the  most  characteristic  traits  of  a  given  spe- 
cies, say,  those  of  several  financiers,  into  the  composite  por- 
trait or  type  of  Turcaret,  playwrights  ought  to  construct  pieces 
a  these,  sociological  plays,  in  which  "the  duties  of  the  various 
professions  and  social  stations,  their  advantages,  disadvantages 
and  dangers  would  furnish  the  basis  and  moral."  Moreover, 
if  they  should  desire  to  make  use  of  contrast,  let  them 
oppose  character  to  "condition,"  even  in  the  same  person,  or 
else  one  condition  to  another.  This  is  why,  in  le  Sherif,  Dide- 
rot introduced  a  magistrate  unworthy  of  his  profession.  But 
there  may  be  only  partial  opposition.  For  instance,  the  hero 
of  a  drama  may  have  the  "character  of  his  station""  and  be 
constrained  by  circumstances  to  become  untrue  to  his  profes- 
sional ideals.  Again,  the  opposition  may  be  double.  One  may 
have  a  family  besides  a  profession  and  the  exigencies  of  these 
two  "conditions"  might  clash  tragically.  We  spoke  of  I'avare, 
pcre  de  famiUc.  Better,  from  the  dramatic  point  of  view,  is  the 
pere  de  famille  avare.  Better  still,  a  father  who  is  "bon,  vigi- 
lant, ferme  et  tendre,"  loving  his  son  as  a  father  should,  yet 
impelled  by  his  sense  of  duty  (or  by  the  prejudices  attaching 
to  his  station)  to  encompass  his  son's  ruin.  Better  dramati- 
cally than  an  unworthy  judge  is  the  one  compelled  by  his  pro- 

"vii,  324. 


"LE  DRAME"  57 

fessional  code  of  honor  to  sacrifice  himself  or  ihe  person  dear- 
est to  him. 

"Que  Quelqu'un  se  propose  de  mettre  sur  la  scene  la 
condition  du  juge;  qu'il  intrigue  son  sujet  d'une  manifere 
aussi  int^ressante  qu'il  le  comporte  et  que  je  le  congois;  que 
rhomme  y  soit  force  par  les  fonctions  de  son  ^tat,  ou  de 
manquer  a  la  dignity  et  h  la  saintet^  de  son  minist6re,  et  de 
se  deshonorer  aux  yeux  des  autres  et  aux  siens,  ou  de  s'im- 
moler  lui-meme  dans  ses  passions,  ses  goilts,  sa  fortune,  sa 
naissance.  sa  femnie  et  ses  enfants,  et  Ton  prononcera  apr6s, 
si  rem  vinit.que  le  drame  honnete  et  s§rieux  est  sans  chaleur, 
sans  couleur  et  sans  force"   (vii,  311f.) 

As  such  a  judge  has  been  staged  by  Mercier,  we  shall  quote 
his  critic,  M.  Beclard,  to  show  how  a  disciple  of  Diderot  under- 
stood his  master's  theory: 

Une  injustice  criante  a  ete  commise.  A  ses  pires  risques 
et  perils,  comme  son  ministfire  I'y  oblige,  le  juge  la  repare. 
De  ce  preambule  a  cette  conclusion,  qu'est-ce  qui  constitue 
le  drame?  Non  pas  les  perplexites  du  juge:  il  n'en  a  point; 
des  le  premier  instant,  la  cause  est  entendue.  Non,  mais 
les  raisons  (lui  rendent  si  douloureuses  a  son  cceur  la  vic- 
toire  indubitable  de  sa  conscience.  Reprimer  I'exc^s  d'un 
brutal,  au  mepris  de  sa  vengeance,  a  beau  etre  d'un  grand 
courage,  on  n'y  voit  pas  la  matiere  d'un  drame,  pas  plus  que 
dans  le  fait  d'affronter  un  chien  enrage.  Donner  tort,  parce 
qu'on  le  doit,  a  un  homme  qu'on  aime  est  autrement  drama- 
tique.  II  faut  done  qu'on  ait  juste  lieu  de  I'aimer,  il  faut 
done  que  celui  qui,  dans  la  piece,  fait  figure  de  mechant .  .  . 
ne  soit  pourtant  point  tout  mecbant.  S'il  n'est  pas  tout 
mechant.  il  faut  puiser  en  son  caractgre  les  raisons  de  son 
injustice  accidentelle;  nous  y  gagnerons  un  portrait  tout  en 
nuances....  II  faut,  en  outre,  emprunter  aux  circonstances 
du  litige  les  apparences  favorables  dont  le  seigneur  [f.  c.  the 
judge's  antagonist]  colore  a  ses  propres  yeux  sa  pretention, 
par  consequent  entrer  au  cceur  de  proces,  c'est-a-dire  em- 
ployer la  scene  h  cette  tache  de  restitution  meticuleuse  que 
Mercier  lui  veut  assigner."  " 

Substitute  Diderot's  name  for  Mercier's  and  you  have  an  excel- 
lent  elucidation   of   part  of   the   task   of   the   "genre  scrieux   et 

'=L.  Beclard,  S.  Mercier  (Paris,  1903),  p.  260  f. 


J 


5.S  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

honncte."  A  part  only,  because  the  most  tragic  situation  is  the 
"disconvcnance  sociale"  " — the  expression  is  Beaumarchais' — 
arising  from  the  violent  opposition  between  natural  and  humani- 
tarian inclinations  and  the  "miserable  conventions"  of  society, 
as  in  Diderot's  Pere  de  famillc  and  Sedaine's  Philosophc  sans 
le  sai'oir.  Diderot's  theory  of  the  drama  is  thus  soldered  to  his 
sociology. 

To  sum  up,  and  giving  Diderot  the  benefit  of  a  liberal 
interpretation,  his  "condition"  is  the  medium  to  which  character 
must  adapt  itself,  and  which  stamps  on  i-t  "la  verriic"  charac- 
teristic of  social  functions.  "^  This  is  a  consequence  of  his 
general  philosophy  of  art.  Diderot  held  that  the  dramatists 
who  preceded  him  had  been  painting  general  man  only,  or 
reduced  man,  in  the  terms  of  Ariste's  monologue,  "de  I'etat 
d'homme  a  celui  d'homme  bon  ou  mechant,  tranquille  ou  co- 
lere." ''  The  true  artist,  however,  goes  one  step  further  and 
ishows  passion  or  character  determined  by  function  or  occu- 
pation and  determining  itself  in  them,  even  as  the  organ  is 
determined  by  biological  function.  There  are  thus  three  steps 
jleading  up  to  dramatic  personalization,  just  as  there  are  three 
jclasses  of  "mots"  or  "cris" — natural,  professional,  and  cha- 
racteristic. 

The  scope  of  our  inquiry  does  not  call  for  criticism  of 
Diderot's  theory  or  practice."  Yet  a  word  or  two  on  this  sub- 
ject will  not  be  amiss. 

Enough  has  been  said,  perhaps,  to  suggest  that  Diderot's 
poetics  of  the  drama  is  not  as  exclusive  and  heterodox  as  it 
is  usually  thought  to  be.  Diderot's  saying  that  "c'est  aux 
situations  a  decider  des  caracteres"  does  not  contradict  Aler- 
cier's  statement  that  "dans  le  drame  Taction  jaillit  du  jeu 
des  caracteres,"  any  more  than  Beaumarchais'  conception 
of  interacting  "situations"  and  "characters."  **     Diderot  did  not 

■••^Beaumarchais.   Preface  to   Figaro    (1781). 
^^  Cf.   Lanson,  Hommes  et   livres    (Paris,   1895),  p.   326. 
'"vii,  394.     Cf.  suin^a.  p.  40. 

•'^  For  a  vindication  of  Diderot's  originality  as  theoretician  of  the 
drama,  V.   Gaiffe,   op.   cit..  p.   121   ff.,   344    f.;    Cru,  Diderot,   p.   295    f. 
**  Contra.  Lintilhac,  Beaumarchais   (Paris,  1887),  p.  310,  note. 


"LE   DRAME"  59 

really  imagine,  as  Palissot  thought,  that  character  could  be 
separated  from  situation,  much  less  look  upon  situations  as  the 
uni(|ue  source  of  dramatic  interest.*"  In  fact,  his  contention  that 
situation  determines  character  was  no  doubt  inspired  by  Aris- 
totle's conception  of  the  plot  as  the  "groundwork,  the  design 
through  the  medium  of  which  ethos  derives  its  meaning  and 
dramatic  value,"  and  of  dramatic  action  as  being  "not  with  a 
\iew  to  the  representation  of  character;  character  comes  in  as 
subsidiary  lo  the  actions...  Again,  without  action  there  cannot 
be  a  tragedy;  there  may  be  without  characters."*"  This  is 
interpreted  liy  Professor  Butcher  to  mean  that  "there  may  bo 
a  tragedy  in  which  the  moral  character  of  the  individual  agents 
is  so  weakly  portrayed  as  to  be  of  no  account  in  the  evolution 
of  the  action.  The  persons  may  be  mere  types,  or  marked  only 
by  class  characteristics,  or  lacking  in  those  distinctive  qualities 
out  of  which  dramatic  action  grows."*'  If  further  authorities 
are  wanted,  Brunetiere  assures  us,  in  defense  of  Diderot,  that 
Corneille  regularly  subordinated   character   to   situation.*' 

Again,  is  not  too  much  made  of  the  discrepancy  between 
Diderot's  theory  and  practice?  He  nowhere  denied  himself 
the  right  to  compromise  with  his  public.     He  said: 

"J'aime    qu'on    etende    la    sphere    de    nos    plaisirs,    mais 
laissez-nous  encore  celles  que   nous   avons"    (vii,   151). 

In  our  turn,  let  us  pardon  him  for  his  experimenting  w'ith 
transitional  plays.  Diderot  wrote  and  sketched  several  plays 
which  were  not  dramas  at  all,  and  Ic  Pere  de  famille  is  avow- 
edly "entre  le  genre  serieux  du  Fils  nature!  et  la  comedie." " 
And  besides,  is  it  so  certain,  even  on  a  rigorous  interpretation  of 

''■  Palis?ot's  a'-s;ument  is  still  ropeated.  aming  others,  by  Ducros, 
Diderot  (Paris,  1894),  p.  245  f.,  and  J.  Rocafort,  les  Doctrines  littd'r. 
de  V EneyelopMie  (Paris.  1890),  p.  215.  But  cf.  Gaiffe,  op.  cit.,  p.  344, 
note,  and  Lessing,  Hamhurgische  Drnmnturgie,  no.  86. 

"'■Butcher,  Artistotle's  Theory  of  Poeti's.  4th  ed.,  (London,  1911), 
p.  346.  343. 

*'•  Ihid.  p.  345;  Cf.  also  D.  Charlton,  Castelvetro's  theory  of 
poetry  (Manchester,  1913),  p.  100. 

*"  Brunetiere,  Les  epoques  du  thMtre  francais  (Paris,  1893), 
p.  278. 

'=vii,  308. 


60  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

the  theory  of  the  drama,  that  Diderot  should  have  insisted  on 
the  etat  civil  of  the  Commander  in  Ic  Pere  de  famillef  He  tells 
us  that  the  Commander  was  a  gentleman  living  on  his  rentes 
and  that  is  all  we  need  to  know.  And  why  should  Saint-Albine 
tell  us  more  about  his  trade  since  that  was  a  sham  devised  to 
give  him  access  to  his  Sophie  ?  Even  granting  that  a  "philo- 
sophe"  like  Dorval  could  not  live  in  idleness — though  Diderot, 
too,  will  some  day  become  a  rentier  and  take  long  vacations — 
there  is  nothing  to  show  that  le  Fils  naturel,  for  all  its  being 
in  the  genre  serieux,  was  intended  to  be  a  full-fledged  drama 
of  profession. 

A  more  serious  objection  made  to  Diderot  is  based  on  his 
own  distinction  of  the  comic  genre,  which  portrays  species,  and 
the  tragic,  which  deals  with  individuals.  The  hero  of  a  tragedy, 
says  Diderot,  is  always  a  particular  figure ;  he  is  Regulus, 
Brutus,  or  Cato  and  he  resembles  one  original  only."  The 
principal  character  of  a  comedy,  on  the  contrary,  stands  for  a 
great  number  of  men. 

"Si,  par  hasard,  on  lui  donnait  ime  physionomie  si  par- 
ticuliere,  qu'il  n'y  eiit  dans  la  societe  qu'un  seul  individu  qui 
lui  ressemblat,  la  comedie  retournerait  a  son  enfance,  et 
degenererait  en  satire"   (vii,  138). 

Or,  as  the  Paradoxe  sur  le  coincdicn  puts  it: 

"L'Avare  et  le  Tartuffe  ont  ete  faits  d'apres  tous  les 
Toinards  et  tous  les  Grizels  du  monde;  ce  sont  leurs  traits 
les  plus  generaux  et  les  plus  marques,  et  ce  n'est  le  portrait 
exact  d'aucun. . . . 

"La  satire  est  d'un  Tartuffe  et  la  comedie  est  du  Tartuffe. 
La  satire  poursuit  un  vicieux,  la  comedie  poursuit  un  vice. 
S'il  n'y  avait  qu'une  ou  deux  Precieuses  ridicules,  on  en 
aurait  pu  faire  une  satire,  mais  non  pas  une  comedie"' 
(viii,  389.  Cf.  also  Mercier,  Du   ThMtre,  p.  119). 

It  is  these  utterances  which  are  turned  against  the  dra- 
matic system  of  Diderot  by  AI.  Gaiffe,  the  learned  and  saga- 
cious historian  of  French  drama  in  the  eighteenth  century: 

"  Cf.    also    Hurd,    Dissertation    on    the    provinces    of    the    drama, 
ch.  1;    Lessing,  Hamhurgische  dramaturgie,  nos.   92-93. 


"LE  DRAME"  61 

•'S'il  est  etoiinant  [writes  M.  Gaiffo]  que  Diderot  ait  si 
incompl^tement  applitiue  une  theorie  a  laquelle  il  seniblait 
bien  attacher  quelque  importance,  il  n'est  pas  moins  remar- 
quable  qu'il  en  ait. — inconsciemmeut,  et  par  une  de  ces  con- 
tradictions qui  lui  sont  famili^res, — denonc6  le  vice  essen- 
tlel,  en  declarant  que  'le  genre  coniique  est  des  esp^ces,  le 
genre   tragique  des  individus.'  "  ^ 

If  comedy  is  of  the  species,  tragedy  of  the  individual,  Al. 
Gaiffe  further  submits,  the  serious  theatre,  which  is  nearest 
to  tragedy,  must  needs  concern  itself  with  exceptional  types,  not 
with  entire  social  groups.  It  cannot  do  otherwise  under  the 
penalty  of  becoming  "comical".  But  if  the  characters  do  not 
afford  us  a  glimpse  of  comic  in  the  "pli  profcssionncl,"  they 
will  remain  cold  and  insipid.  When  the  tragic  tone  or  tragic 
situations  are  employed,  the  characters  must  be  made  either  con- 
temptible or  heroic,  that  is  to  say,  exceptional  beings  that  might 
find  a  place  in  the  unreal  atmosphere  of  melodrama  and 
tragedy,  but  are  utterly  out  of  place  in  bourgeois,  every-day 
setting. 

To  the  present  writer,  it  seems  that  these  strictures  are  too 
severe.  It  must  be  said  for  Diderot  (proof  of  this  has  been 
previously  submitted)  that  he  sanctioned  and  recommended  a 
touch  of  wit  and  humor  in  the  serious  drama."  So  that  if,  as 
M.  Gaiffe  states,  the  best  eighteenth-century  dramas  of  "con- 
ditions" are  those  that  have  a  comic  tinge,  Diderot  gives  evi- 
dence of  sagacity.  He  did  not  intend  to  keep  his  characters 
strictly  to  the  middle  of  the  road  between  farce  and  heroic 
tragedy:  "Dans  le  genre  serieux,  les  caracteres  seront  souvent 
aussi  generaux  que  dans  le  genre  comique."'^  For  example, 
we  may  imagine  the  hero  of  "domestic"  tragedy  to  be  a  miser, 
exercising  the  profession  of  usurer.  Yet  he  could  add:  "Mais 
ils  seront  toujours  moins  individuels  que  dans  le  genre  tra- 
gique,"' because,  even  when  moved  to  heroic  deeds — and  Diderot 
believed  every  class  of  people  yielded  men  capable  of  heroism — 
the   personages   of   the   "drama"    would    still    retain    their    class 

■'■'  F.  Gaiffe,  o/j.  cit..  p.  347.  Cf.  also  the  criticism   of  Diderot  and 
Lessing  iii  E.  Grucker,  Lessing    (Paris,   1S96),  p.   413   ff. 
"•TH.  167,  etc.  '"vii,  140. 


62  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

characteristics.  Moreover,  Diderot  has  provided  for  a  more 
individuaHstic  tragedy,  namely,  the  "historical."  '  It  is  there 
that  professional  characteristics  may  be  often  absent  without 
this  conflicting  with  Diderot's  theory. 

It  is  none  the  less  true  that  the  balance  is  hard  to  strike 
between  the  comical  and  the  tragic.  Accordingly,  we  have  the 
quasi-allegoric  drama  of  Mercier,  the  genre  sombre  of  Baculard 
d'Arnaud  and  de  Bissy,  the  "drame  niixte,"  of  "intrigue  and 
pathos,"  preconized  by  Beaumarchais.""*  Diderot  himself  felt 
impelled  by  his  scientific  and  propagandist  preoccupations  to 
create  average  and  general  figures,  applicable  to  all  times  and 
places,  like  those  of  his  Peres  malheureux.'"''  He  also  moved 
away  from  the  realistic  piece  in  the  direction  of  melodramatic, 
biographic  and  anecdotal  (or  shall  we  say.  Romanticist?)  his- 
torical drama,  thanks  to  his  bent  for  hero-worship,  his  gross, 
pseudo-scientific  notions  of  psychology,  his  liking  for  com- 
plicated intrigue,  picturesqueness  and  the  external  apparatus  of 
dramatic  action.  Witness  his  "drame  philosophique,"  *°  out- 
lininp'  the  Death  of  Socrates,  and  the  historical  "tragedies" 
of  the  type  of  Ic  Shcrif  and  Tcrentia.  Herein  Diderot's 
theory  of  intermediary  genres  agrees  with  his  dramatic 
practice  which,  if  his  lesser  and  unfinished  plays  are  in- 
cluded, covers  almost  all  kinds  of  dramatic  compositions  from 
comic  imbroglio  to  quasi-tragedy.  But  whether  the  lability  of 
his  theory  is  a  sign  of  weakness  or  of  force  is  a  question  that 
is  answered  according  to  the  point  of  view  of  him  who  asks 
it.  It  may  be  said  for  it  that  it  is  a  manifestation  of  liberalism, 
Diderot  having  opposed  no  genre  save  the  genre  ennuyeux  of 
heroic  tragedy,  and  having  strewn  the  fermenta  cognitionis 
which,  in  addition  to  the  melodrama  and  drama,  gave  birth  to 
the   modern    social    play   and    the   photoplay.      Who   knows   but 

"  Cf.   the  following   chapter. 

•''*  Beaumarchais,  Preface  to  la  Mere  coupable  (1792),  in  (Euv., 
ed.   d'Heilly-Marescot,    iv,   198. 

™  For  symbolism  as  a  characteristic  of  Romanticism,  cf.  M.  B. 
Finch  and  E.  A.  Peers,  The  origins  of  French  Romanticism  (London, 
1920),  p.  33  f. 

'"'vii,  314,  381  ff. 


LE   DRAiME"  63 


that  we  may  yet  witness  the  combination  dreamed  by  Diderot, 
of  pageantry,  drama,  pantomime  and  opera,  aided  by  the  re- 
sources of  plastic  and  decorative  arts?" 


VI 

THE  "DRAMA"  AS  A  GENRE  VALID  FOR  ALL  TIMES  AND 
PLACES.  HEROIC  TRAGEDY,  EXPRESSIVE  OF  ANCIENT 
SOeihTY.  DIED  WITH  THE  ANCIENTS.  INADAPTATION  OF 
NEO-CLASSIC  TRAGEDY  TO  THE  NEW  "SPIRIT  OF  THE  AGE." 
THE   REVOLUTION   AND   HISTORICAL   DRAMA 

We  have  hitherto  considered  the  essence  of  "dramc"  and 
ascertained  that  the  new  genre  was  at  once  natural  and  artistic, 
that  it  reflected  reality  in  all  its  objectivity  and  also  gratified 
our  esthetic  sense,  the  natural  "love  of  order"  which  constitutes 
"taste."  r'orcing  a  little  Kant's  terminology',  we  may  claim  for 
it  a  priori  validity.  Diderot  believed  that  the  "drama,"  and 
the  "drama"  alone,  was  able  to  stand  the  test  of  a-priority: 
Quod  semper,  quod  ubique,  quod  apud  omnes.  Serious  comedy 
and  domestic  tragedy  had  the  privilege  of  appealing  to  the  nor- 
mal and  invariant  element  which  abides  underneath  the  "revo- 
lutions"' of  man  and  his  institutions: 

"Portez  le  nu  en  quelque  lieu  de  la  terre  qu'il  vous 
plaira;  11  fixera  I'attention  s'il  est  bien  dessine.  Si  vous 
excellez  dans  le  genre  serieux,  vous  plairez  a  tous  les  temps 
et  chez  tous  les   peuples"    (vii,   136). 

"Je  ne  connais  et  je  ne  suis  dispose  a  recevoir  de  lot... 
que  de  la  verite.  Votre  dessein  serait-il  de  faire  de  Taction 
theatrale  une  chose  technique  qui  s'6cartat  tantot  plus, 
tantot  moins  de  la  nature,  sans  qu'il  n'y  eut  aucun  point  fixe 
au  dela  ou  en  dega  duquel  on  put  I'accuser  d'etre  faible, 
outree,  ou  fausse  ou  vraie?  Livrez-vous  a  des  conventions 
nationales  et  ce  qui  sera  bien  k  Paris  sera  mal  a  Londres, 
et  ce  qui  est  bien  a  Paris  et  a  Londres  aujourd'hui,  y  sera 
mal  demain.  Dans  les  moeurs  et  dans  les  arts  il  n'y  a  de  bien 
et  de  mal  pour  moi  que  ce  qui  Test  en  tout  temps  et  partout. 

"Cf.  vii,  151;   viii,  460  ff. 

'  Cf.  xiv,  432    (art.   •'En(yclop(''<Jie"). 


64  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

Je  veux  que  ma  morale  et  mon  gout  soient  eternels"  (vii,  403, 
Reponse  a  la  lettre  de  Mme  Riccoboni,  1758). 

From  the  a  priori  or  "natural"  character  of  the  "drama," 
it  follows  that  it  must  have  subsisted  virtually  or  potentially 
even  before  it  was  realized  by  the  "dramaturgists"  of  Diderot's 
lifetime.  The  "systeme  de  la  nature"  subsists  evert  when 
checked  by  unnatural  forces  and  comes  into  manifest  existence 
as  soon  as  the  conditions  are  removed  which  opposed  its  reali- 
zation. 

This  reflexion  leads  us  to  consider  Diderot's  sociology  of 
esthetic  as  well  as  his  conception  of  the  historical  development 
of  dramatic  art.  While  the  details  of  his  views  have  been 
lost  to  us,  his  general  outlook  upon  the  history  of  the  drama 
may  be  reconstructed  owing  to  his  having  repeated  over 
and  over  again  in  the  course  of  his  writings  a  number  of 
sociological  axioms  which  constitute  the  premises  of  his  philos- 
ophy of  dramatic  history.  The  most  important  of  these  come 
up  in  connection  with  the  subject  of  "rules,"  things  Diderot 
seems  to  have  grown  more  and  more  sceptical  of  as  time  went 
on: 

''J'en  demande  pardon  a  Aristote,  mais  c'est  une  critique 
vicieuse  que  de  deduire  des  regies  exclusives  des  ouvrages 
les  plus  parfaits,  comme  si  les  moyens  de  plaire  n'etaient  pas 
infinis.  II  n'y  a  presque  aucune  de  ces  regies  que  le  genie 
ne  puisse  enfreindre  avec  succes...  Les  regies  ont  fait  de 
I'art  une  routine;  et  je  ne  sais  si  elles  n'ont  pas  ete  plus 
nuisibles  qu'utiles.  Entendous-nous:  elles  ont  servi  a  Fhomme 
ordinaire:  elles  ont  nui  a  I'homme  de  genie"  (xii,  75  f., 
Pens^es  d^tachces  sur  la  peinture,  la  sculpture,  V architecture 
et  la  po^sie.  after  1776). 

In  most  cases  the  "rules"  are  "un  tissu  de  lois  particulieres 
dont  on  a  fait  des  preceptes  generaux,""  not  a  few  of  the 
accepted  dramatic  axioms  being  due  to  the  misinterpretation  of 
Horace  and  other  authorities,  as  Grimm,  who  used  to  borrow 
Diderot's  erudition,  showed  in  the  Corrcspondaucc  littcralrc  of 
April  15,  1764.^    Yet  there  is  such  a  thing  as  an  a  priori  poetics 

=  vii,  334  f.  'Corr.  litt.,  v,  487   f. 


"LE   DRAME"  65 

and  "un  hon  goiit  aussi   vioux  (jiio  le  mondc  ct  la   xltIu."* 

"Pour  bien  juger  il'une  production  il  ne  laiit  pas  la 
rapporter  a  une  autre  production...  Qu'il  y  ait  ou  non  des 
niodeles  subsistants,  il  n'iniporte.  11  est  une  r6gle  ant6rieure 
k  tout  et  la  raison  poetique  etait,  qu'il  n'y  avail  point  encore 
des  pontes;  sans  cela  comment  aurait-on  jug6  le  premier 
podme?  Fut-il  bon,  parce  qu'il  plut?  ou  plut-il  parce  qu'il 
^tait  bon?"   (vii,  310,  Dc  la  i)ocsir  ilramatiquc). 

"II  faJlait  un  temps  raisonneur,  ou  Ton  ne  chercliat  plus 
les  regies  dans  les  auteurs,  niais  dans  la  nature,  et  oii  Ion 
sentit  le  faux  et  le  vrai  de  tant  de  poetiques  arbitraires:  je 
prends  le  terme  de  poetique  dans  son  acception  la  plus  g6ne- 
rale,  pour  un  systeme  de  regies  donnees,  selon  lesquelles,  en 
quelque  genre  que  ce  soit,  on  pretend  qu'il  faut  travailler 
pour  reussir"   (xiv,  475,  art.  **Encyclop(;die,"  1755). 

"II  y  a  bien  de  la  difference  entre  enfanter  a  force  de 
genie  un  ouvrage  qui  enleve  les  suffrages  d'une  nation  qui 
a  son  moment,  son  gout,  ses  idees  et  ses  prejuges  et  tracer 
la  poetique  du  genre  selon  la  connaissance  reelle  et  reflechie 
du  coeur  de  I'liomme,  de  la  nature  des  choses  et  de  la  droite 
raison,  qui  sont  les  memes  dans  tons  des  temps.  Le  genie 
ne  connait  point  les  regies,  cependant  il  ne  s'en  ecarte  jamais 
dans  ses  succes.  La  philosophie  ne  connait  que  les  regies 
fcndees  dans  la  nature  des  etres,  qui  est  immuable  et  eternelle. 
C'est  au  siecle  passe  a  former  des  exemples;  c'est  a  notre 
siecle  a  prescrire  les  regies"   (xiv,   425,  art.  **Encyclopcdie") . 

Diderot  agreed  with  the  representatives  of  "I'esprit  philo- 
sophique  ou  de  dotite"  ' — Perrault,  La  Motte,  Terrasson,  Boin- 
din,  Fontenelle — that  there  is  a  "regie  anterieure  a  tout"  by 
which  things  of  beauty  may  be  judged  objectively,  because 
nature,  reason  and  taste  obey  invariable  laws.  He  was  neither 
a  sectator  of  authority  as  such,  a  believer  in  mechanical  devices 
for  turning  out  poetry — ^their  time  had  passed  with  the  Renais- 
sance— nor  a  subjectivist  or  unmitigated  relativist,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  "pyrrhonistes"  whom  the  critics  of  his  century 
loved  to  knock  down  and  who  were  mostly   invented    for   thai 

^xii,  76   (Penat'es  drtn<hrrs,  etc.)  '' Cf.  xiv.  ■{2'i. 


66  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

purpose.'  Like  most  of  his  contemporaries  (and  ours  for  that 
matter)  Diderot  was  what  M.  Lalo  would  call  a  "dogmatic 
relativist." ' 

"Sur  ces  conventions  theatrales,  voici  ce  que  je  pense. 
C'est  que  celui  qui  ignorera  la  raison  poetique  ignorant  aussi 
le  fondement  de  la  regie,  ne  saura  ni  I'abandonner,  ni  la 
suivre  a  propos.  II  aura  pour  elle  trop  de  respect  ou  trop 
de  mepris,  deux  ecueils  opposes  mais  egalement  dangereux. 
L'un  reduit  a  rien  les  observations  et  I'experience  des  slecles 
passes,  et  ramene  I'art  a  son  enfance;  I'autre  I'arrete  tout 
court  oil  il  est  et  rempeche  d'aller  en  avant"    (vii,  89). 

It  is  extremely  difficult  to  keep  one's  critical  balance  nicely 
adjusted  to  the  exigencies  of  every  instance.  Everyhere  and 
at  all  times  "prejudices,  usages,  manners,  climates,  govern- 
ments, cults,  events"  leave  their  mark  on  large  groups  of  men, 
so  that  we  may  speak  of  "national  tastes"  and  national  con- 
ventions" in  addition  to  individual  idiosyncrasies,  all  of  which 
tend  to  obscure  and  frequently  wholly  obliterate  the  natural 
and  normal  promptings  of  reason  and  esthetic  sentiment.*  Dide- 
rot did  not  condemn  national  art  as  such.  He  may  have  applied 
to  art  what  he  said  of  language:  "Fontenelle  parle  bien,  ecrit 
bien,  quoique  son  style  fourmille  d'idiotismes  francais."  "  While 
apt  to  exaggerate  these  national  differences  (he  says  for  in- 
stance there  are  involved  in  playing  Shakespeare  and  Racine 
no  common  principles),"  Diderot  was  unalterably  opposed  to 
literary  intolerance,  to  the  idea,  so  dear  to  pseudo-Classicists 
and  "geometers,"  that  the  genius  and  taste  of  one's  own  genera- 
tion are  the  measure  whereby  all  artistic  and  literary  produc- 
tions are  to  be  gauged.  There  is,  says  Diderot,  "in  matters 
of  taste  as  in  religious   affairs,  a  sort  of   intolerance   which   I 

^Contra.  D.  Mornet  in  Rev.  d'hist.  Litt.  xxi  (1914),  p.  258.  Buffier 
is  the  exception  which  confirms  the  rule. 

'  Cf.  Lalo,  Introduction  d   Vesthetique   (Paris,  1912). 

*Cf.  X,  38  (Art.  ''Beaur  1751);  i,  404  f.  (Additions  to  the  Lettre 
sur  les  soitrds.  1751).  For  similar  opinions  of  his  contemporaries, 
of.  the  paper  of  D.  Mornet  on  "la  Question  des  regies  au  xviiie  siecle" 
in  Rev.  d'hist.  litt.  xxi  (1914).  For  Grimm  and  Geoffroy,  v.  Des 
Granges,  Geoffroy  et  la  critique  drainatiqiie.  p.   146. 

"v,  419  f.   (Neveu  de  Rayncau). 

^"viii.  344,  364  (Paradoxe  siir  le  comedien). 


"LE  DRAME'  67 

blame,  but  of  which  I  am  able  lo  free  myself  onK-  b\  a  si)ecial 
effort  of  my  reason."  "  ihis  intolerant  sprit  is  at  the  root 
of  pseudo-Classicist  \vorshi[)  vi  I'Tench  genius,  which  iirumoy 
had  condemned  in  advance  in  these  words:  "C'est  comme  si 
Von  jui^eait  un  etranger  sur  le  code  frangais."  " 

While  Rousseau"  thought  that  men  of  genius  were  unable 
to  stamp  their  ideas  on  society,  Diderot  optimistically  believed 
in  their  final  success,  though  not  necessarily  or  even  usually 
in  their  life  time.  There  is  progress  in  art  because  artistic  ori- 
ginality— "genie"  or  "verre" — is  not  entirely  dependent  (jn  the 
factors  determining  the  average  "taste,"  which  is  also  usually 
reflected  by  critics."  In  spite  of  all  difficulties  genius  suc- 
ceeds in  enriching  public  taste  and  slowly  directs  it  toward  the 
asymptote  of  "good  taste,"  that  "of  all  times,  of  all  countries, 
of  all  ages,  and  of  all  estates."  "  Yet  progress  is  not  rectilinear. 
If  taste  panders  to  social  prejudices  and  suffers  the  influence 
of  climatic  and  national  prejudices,  "la  verve,"  on  the  contrary, 
may  be  too  precipitate,  too  sensitive  to  "rapports"  that  lie  be- 
yond the  ken  of  average  man,  in  one  word,  too  subjective. 
Genius  may  also  promote  a  taste  which  is  not  entirely  "good." 
(Shakespeare,  the  monstrous,  and  even  Racine  are  shining  ex- 
amples of  this.)  This  is  why  Diderot  was  at  times  reconciled 
to  a  century  which  failed  to  produce  a  dramatic  genius: 

"Mais  ce  siecle  s'est  fait  attendre  si  longtemps,  que  j'ai 
pense  quelquefois  qu'il  serait  heureux  pour  un  peuple  qu'il  ne 
se  rencontrat  point  chez  lui  un  homme  extraordinaire,  sous 
lequel  un  art  naissant  fit  ses  premiers  progres  trop  grands  et 
trop  rapides.  et  qui  en  interrompit  le  mouvement  nature!.  Les 
ouvrages  de  cet  horame  seront  necessairement  des  composes 
monstrueux,  parce  que  le  genie  et  le  bon  goiit  sont  deux  qua- 
lites  tres  differentes.  La  nature  donne  I'un  en  un  moment, 
I'autre  est  le  produit  des  siecles.  Ces  monstres  deviendront 
des   modeles   nationaux;    ils   decideront   le   gout   d'un   peuple. 

"V,  216   fEloge  de  Richardsoiu   1761). 

'=  Brumoy,  Le  Thrntre  des  Grees.  ed.  of  1763,  vol.   i,  p.  118. 

"  Discours  sur  I'origine. . .    de  Vinegalit^,  1754. 

"vii,  307;  viii,  440  f.  (Proiet  de  preface);  iv.  30  (Siir  l'('-vidence). 

"v,  233  (Ri'flexions  sur  Trrencc,  1762).  Cf.  xi,  ir^O  (Salon  de 
1767);  xii,  76  (Pensees  dctachees) ;  xviii,  158  (To  Falconet,  Sept. 
1766). 


68  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

Les  bons  esprits  qui  succederont  trouveront  en  leur  faveur 
une  prevention  qu'ils  n'oseront  heurter;  et  la  notion  du  beau 
s'obscurcira,  comme  il  arriverait  a  celle  du  bien  de  s'ob- 
scurcir  chez  des  barbares  qui  auraient  pris  une  veneration 
excessive  pour  quelque  chef  d'un  caractere  equivoque,  qui 
se  serait  rendu  recommendable  par  des  services  importants  et 
des  vices  heureux.  Dans  le  moral,  il  n'y  a  que  Dieu  qui 
doive  servir  de  modele  a  rbomme;  dans  les  arts,  que  la 
nature.  Si  les  sciences  et  les  arts  s'avancent  par  des  degres 
insensibles,  un  homme  ne  differera  pas  assez  d'un  autre  pour 
lui  en  imposer,  fonder  un  genre  adopte,  et  donner  un  goiit  a 
la  nation;  consequemment  la  nature  et  la  raison  conserve- 
ront   leurs   droits"    (xiv,   475,   art.    •^Encyclopedic''). 

Such  partly  monstrous  innovations,  when  sanctioned  by  a 
nation,  may  create  a  "dramatic  system,"  which  contrives  to 
maintain  itself  by  virtue  of  a  few  natural  traits  ("grands  traits 
de  Nature")  until  a  philosophic  poet  "quarters  the  hippogriff" 
and  introduces  better  taste.'"  For  nothing  is  rarer  than  a  genius 
who  should  have  learned  the  "lesson  of  taste  and  the  centuries 
in  all  their  purity,"  and  attained  to  the  ideal  in  one  leap,  as  it 
w^ere.  Even  should  one  appear,  he  would  prove  beyond  his 
time : 

"II  n'y  a  qu'un  moment  heureux;  c'est  celui  oil  il  y  a 
assez  de  verve  et  de  liberte  pour  etre  chaud,  assez  de  juge- 
ment  et  de  gout  pour  etre  sage"   (xi,  132). 

Until  such  minds  and  moments  meet,  the  most  enlightened 
critics  will  strive  to  point  out  the  flaws  of  the  various  "sys- 
tems" and  suggest  improvements."  The  philosophic  critic  is 
essentially  progressive ;  he  does  not  swear  by  one  "system"  nor 
even  by  all,  for  he  knows  that  there  "are  idiotisms  that  are 
common  to  all  times  and  countries  just  as  there  are  common 
stupidities.""  Yet  he  tries  to  anticipate  the  direction  of  prog- 
ress and  the  trend  of  evolution.  Unable  himself  to  form  poets — 
for  poetry  cannot  be  taught  by  precept — the  critic  possessed 
of  "esprit  philosophiqiie"  will  foresee  or  recognize  the  man  of 

"xi,  153,  254  (Salon  de  1161).  V.  the  next  chapter. 

"Cf.  xiv,  475. 

"v,  420  (le  Neveu  de  Rameau). 


"LE  DRAME"  Ij'.) 

genius  and  prepare  jniblic  taste  for  his  reception.'"  When  nature 
produces  an  artist  to  whose  work  traditional  names  and  laws 
ni)  longer  a[)ply,  the  philosophic  critic  will  "pull  down  all  the 
boundaries  that  were  not  set  by  reason,  give  to  the  arts  and 
sciences  the  liberty  that  is  so  precious  to  them,  and  say  to  the 
admirers  of  antiquity:  'Call  the  London  Merchant  what  you 
will,  provided  you  agree  that  the  play  shines  with  sublime 
beauties.'"" 

We  are  now  prepared  to  understand  Diderot's  attitude 
in  the  three-cornered  battle  fought  by  the  "Ancients"  (the 
a)itiquisa)its  of  the  race  of  Guimond  de  la  Touche),  the  "Mod- 
erns" (/.  i\,  the  partisans  of  the  heroic  tragedy  of  Crebillon 
and  \'oltaire),  and  the  harbingers  of  the  new  order  of  things 
dramatic.  Diderot  was  not  the  man  whom  one  might  ask,  as 
Huet  asked  F'errault,  whether  he  meant  to  judge  all  things  by 
the  standards  of  his  century.  Said  he,  applying  to  this  ques- 
tion  the   principles   we   have  been  considering: 

"Pour  bien  jiiger  d'une  production  il  ne  faut  pas  la 
rapporter  a  une  autre  production.  Ce  fut  ainsl  qu'un  de 
nos  premiers  critiques  se  trompa.  II  dit:  'Les  anclens  n'ont 
point  eu  d'opera,  done  I'opera  est  un  mauvais  genre.'  Plus 
circonspect,  ou  plus  instruit,  il  n'eilt  fait  ni  I'un  ni  I'autre 
raisonnement.  Qu'il  y  ait  ou  non  des  modules  Bubsistants, 
il  n'importe.  II  est  une  regie  anterieure  a  tout..." 
(vii.  310). 

Accordingly,  it  is  in  the  name  of  things-in-themselves  that 
Diderot  found  fault  with  the  acting  of  the  ancients  as  well  as 
that  of  his  contemporaries.  He  thus  answered  Mme  Riccoboni's 
remark  that  the  Greek  mimes  would  now  appear  ridiculous : 

"  'Leur  jru  serait  Men  ridicule  a  nos  yeux.'  Et  le  notre 
aux  leurs:  pourquoi  cela?  C'est  qu'il  n'y  a  que  le  vrai  qui 
soit  de  tous  les  temps  et  de  tons  les  lieux"   (vii,   403). 

Reasoning  analogously,  Diderot  held  that  the  Greek  dra- 
matic  "system"   may   have   been   the   truest   known,   but   it   was 

'"  Cf.   an  article  by  Grimm,   but  with   all  the  marks  of   Diderot's 
thought  and  style  in  the  Corr.   lift.,   Sept.  1,  1763. 
^' xiv,   475    ("E7icycloi)6die"). 


70  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

not  necessarily  the  last  word  of  truth  nor  true  in  all  its  parts, 
Diderot  reminded  the  apostles  of  the  retour  a  I'antique,  who 
were  beginning  to  appear  as  he  published  his  manifestos,  that 
art  was  essentially  progressive  and  that  dramatic  art  in  par- 
ticular had  outgrown  its  "childhood,"  the  time  when  comedy 
was  satire,  and  sock,  buskin  and  mask  graced  the  stage." 

In  one  respect,  however,  the  ancient  theatre  was,  if  not 
absolutely  "true,"  at  least  as  nearly  so  as  the  best  the  Moderns- 
had  produced.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  Diderot 
held  that  the  "scriotis  genre"  was  heir  to  ancient  tradition."  To 
be  sure,  although  he  did  not  compare  at  any  length  the  genre 
exemplified  by  classical  and  Gallo-classical  dramatists,  he  says 
that  the  "nature"  imitated  in  ancient  serious  comedy  was  coars- 
er and  more  energetic  than  the  modern.  And  he  may  have 
been  earnestly  convinced  that  Terence  had  no  rival  among  the 
moderns.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  certain  that  a  modern 
writer  like  Sedaine,  who  struck  deep  enough  to  reach  the  uncor- 
rupted  layer  in  human  nature  would  have  pleased  the  "virtuous 
people"  of  all  ages,  the  contemporaries  of  Terence  as  well  as 
Diderot's  own.  Bret  was  quite  inferior  in  talent  to  the  author 
of  Andria.     Nevertheless, 

"lorsque  j'entendis  les  scenes  du  Paysan  dans  le  Faux 
g^n^reux,  je  dis:  Voil&  qui  plaira  a  toute  la  terre,  et  dans 
tons  les  temps;  voila  qui  fera  fondre  en  en  larmes.  L'effet 
a  confirme  mon  jugement.  Cet  episode  est  tout  a  fait  dans 
le  genre  honnete  et  serieux"    (vii,  310   f.) 

This  is  meager  enough,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  Diderot  looked  upon  the  old  "drama"  and  the  new  other- 
wise than  as  two  manifestations  of  the  same  thing.  It  is  more 
difficult  to  establish  the  relationship  of  philosophic  tragedy  to 
the  tragedy  of  the  ancients.  Granting  the  esthetic  justification  of 
Greek  tragedy,  we  may  ask.  Was  not  the  genre  of  Crebillon 
and  Voltaire  much  nearer  to  it  than  the  innovation  of  Diderot? 

"vii,  121,  123,  124.     Cf.  viii,  405. 

^Cf.  vii,  311  and  Grimm  in  Corr.  lift.,  vii,  413  (Sept.  15,  1767). 
On  Terence  considered  as  the  father  of  "drame,"  v.  E.  Bernhaum, 
The  Drama  of  Scnsihility  (Boston,  1915),  ch.  2:  "Sentimental 
misinterpretations  of  Plautus  and  Terence." 


"LE   DRAME"  71 

Was  ancient  tragedy  sufficiently  "true"  to  deserve  a  successor? 
And  is  the  "bourgcoise"  the  only  tragedy  possible  in  the  "sys- 
tenic  dc  la  nature" f 

These  questions  Diderot  has  not  answered  for  us  in  as 
many  words.  We  shall  try,  however,  to  collect  some  of  his 
sayings  w  hich  may  suggest  the  proper  answers.  The  Entrcticns 
and  Dc  la  Pocsie  dramatiqiic  are  very  reticent  about  the  nature 
of  ancient  tragedy  and  the  shortcomings  of  French  heroic  trag- 
edy and  we  shall  have  to  wait  for  the  Paradoxc  sur  Ic  comcdien 
{ijjo-ijjS)  for  a  formal  declaration  of  war  on  the  aristocratic 
tragic  genre  and  a  i)lea  for  a  new,  "historical"  tragedy."  Yet 
there  are  certain  indications,  even  outside  of  and  before  the 
Paradox,  which  show  that  Diderot  always  believed  that  his  own 
tragic  theatre  was  perfectly  apposite  to  the  artistic  needs  of  the 
new  world,  and  withal  the  sole  legitimate  heir  to  ancient  trag- 
edy in  those  things  which  are  of  all   times  and  places. 

This  right  of  succession  may  seem  preposterous  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  an  impassible  gulf  separates  the  mores  pictured 
in  ancient  tragedy  and  the  more  polished  manners  and  customs 
of  the  French  in  the  Age  of  Taste  and  Reason.  To  a  "Mod- 
ern" like  Terrasson  the  manners  of  the  ancients  were  an 
abomination.  Even  the  French  Classicists  and  pseudo-Classi- 
cists who  admired  the  ancients  did  so,  as  M.  Louis  Bertrand 
has  iustly  observed,  for  their  having  been  "honnetes  gens,"  and 
united  good  breeding  with  elegance  and  harmony."  Even 
Fenelon  saw  between  the  pages  of  Homer  and  \'irgil  his  own 
Utopias  of  a  Golden  Age.  Brumoy  taught  that  "I'art  doit  peindre 
la  nature  telle  qu'il  la  trouve.  Je  veux  dire  avec  les  appanages 
de  I'humanite  et  de  I'education.""  Not  so  Diderot,  who  pre- 
ferred Homer  (the  fons  et  origo  of  tragic  mores  and  ideas)  to 
\'irgil  and  Horace  and  took  delight  in  the  old  bard,  as  he  later 
did  in  Ossian,  because  he  caught  in  them  a  glimpse  of  "quelque 
chose  d'enorme,  de  barbare  et  de  sauvage."'"     Wrote  Diderot: 

"  V.  the  subsequent  chapter. 

■'  L.    Bertrand,    La   fin    dii    classicisme    et    le    retour    a    Vantique, 
(Paris,  1897),  p.  96. 

"Brumoy,  op.  cit.  I,  p.  12.  ^"'vii,  371. 


• 


72  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

"La  nature  m'a  donne  le  gout  de  la  simplicite;  et  je 
tache  de  le  perfectionner  par  la  lecture  des  Anclens.  Voila 
mon  secret.  Celui  qui  lirait  Homere...  y  decouvrirait  bien 
plus  surement  la  source  ou 'je  pulse...  Point  d'esprit,  mais 
des  choses  d'une  verite  si  grande  qu'on  se  persuaderait 
presque  qu'on  les  aurait  trouvees  comme  Homere"  (vii,  339; 
cf.  iii,  481). 

"Plusieurs  annees  de  suite  j'ai  ete  aussi  religieux  a  lire 
un  chant  d'Homere  avant  de  me  coucher  que  Test  un  bon 
pretre  a  reciter  son  breviaire.  J'ai  suce  de  bonne  beure 
le  lait  d'Homere,  de  Virgile,  d'Horace,  de  Terence,  d'Ana- 
creon,  de  Platon,  d'Euripide,  coupe  avec  celui  de  Moise  et 
des  prophetes"    (iii,   478). 

These  lines  might  have  been  written  by  Fenelon,  instead 
of  Diderot.  But  neither  Fenelon  nor  Vico  would  have  extolled 
barbaric  and  orgiastic  mores,  as  Diderot  does  in  Dc  la  Poesie 
dramatiquc : 

"Quand  est-ce  que  la  nature  prepare  des  modeles  a  I'art? 
'C'est  au  temps  ou  les  enfants  s'arrachent  les  cheveux  autour 
»^  du   lit   d'un   pere   moribond,    od   une   mere    decouvre   son    sein 

et  conjure  son  fils  par  les  mamelles  qui  I'ont  allaite,  oil  un 
ami  se  coupe  la  cbevelure,  et  la  repand  sur  le  cadavre  de 
son  ami;  oil  c'est  lui  qui  le  soutient  par  la  tete  et  qui  le 
porte  sur  un  bucher,  qui  recueille  sa  cendre  et  qui  la  ren- 
ferme  dans  une  urne  qu'il  va,  lui,  certains  jours,  arroser  de 
ses  pleurs;  ovi  les  repas  sont  des  sacrifices  qui  commencent 
et  finissent  par  des  coupes  remplies  de  vin,  et  versees  sur  la 
terre;  oil  le  peuple  parle  a  ses  maltres;  et  oii  ses  maitres 
I'entendent  et  lui  repondent;  ...oii  des  pythies  ecumantes 
par  la  presence  d'un  demon  qui  les  tourmente,  sont  assises 
sur  des  trepieds,  ont  les  yeux  egares,  et  font  mugir  de  leurs 
cris  prophetiques  le  fond  obscur  des  antres;  oil  les  dieux, 
alteres  du  sang  humain,  ne  sont  apaises  que  par  son  effusion; 
oil  des  bacchantes,  armees  de  thyrses,  s'egarent  dans  les 
forets  et  inspirent  I'effroi  au  profane  qui  se  recontre  sur 
leur  passage;  oil  d'autres  femmes  se  depouillent  sans  pudeur, 
ouvrent  les  bras  au  premier  qui  se  presente,  et  se  prostituent, 
etc.  Qu'est-ce  qu'il  faut  au  poete?  Est-ce  une  nature  brute 
ou  cultivee,  paisible  ou  troublee?  ...La  poesie  veut  quelque 
chose  d'enorme,  de  barbare  et  de   sauvage"    (vii,   370   f.) 


"LE  DRAME"  73 

This  \ie\v  of  ihc  rclalionshii)  of  ancient  "i)octry"  and 
ancient  society  is  completed  \>y  what  a  certain  "FhUosopJic," 
who  being  credited  with  the  interpretations  of  Horace  already 
alluded  to,  is  none  other  than  Diderot,  has  to  say  in  the  Corrcs- 
poudancc  littcrairc  of  April  15,  1764.  The  Philosopher  defends 
Homer  against  Marmontel''  who  found  fault  with  the  <  Ireek 
poet  because  of  Achilles'  saying  "Dear  Patroclus,  be  not  angry 
with  me  if  the  news  is  brought  to  you  in  Hades  that  T  sur- 
rendered Hector's  body  to  his  father:  for.  .  ."  (not  "I  could  not 
resist  the  tears  of  his  unfortunate  father,"  but) .  .  .  "he  brought 
me  a  ransom  worthy  of  thee." 

"Ne  voyez  vous  pas  [asks  our  'Philosopher']  qu'en 
faisant  dire  a  Achilla :  'car  je  n'ai  pii  r^sister  aux  larmes 
de  ce  vieillard,"  vous  lui  faites  dire  une  chose  commune  et 
triviale,  et  que  ce  qui  donne  de  la  couleur  au  discours 
d'Achille,  c'est  ce  qu'Homere  lui  fait  dire:  'car  il  m'apporte 
une  rangon  digne  de  moi'?  Pourquoi  vonlez-vous  qu'Achille 
se  laisse  flechir  par  les  larmes  d'un  ennemi  dont  la  querelle 
a  entraine  la  perte  de  ce  Patrocle  si  tendrement  alm6,  si 
douloureusement  regrette?  Mais  il  n'a  rien  a  opposer  a  la 
rangon,  et  il  se  soumet  aux  lois  de  I'usage... 

"Ce  sont  les  prej^igvs  et  les  moeurs  qui  en  risultent  qui 
rendent  nn  porme  precieux  aux  yeux  d'un  homme  de  gout.  Si 
vous  ne  savez  peindre  qu'avec  res  traits  grn^'raux  qui  con- 
viennent  aux  hommes  de  tous  les  climats,  de  toutes  les 
nations,  de  tous  les  ages,  vous  n'attacherez,  ni  ne  toucherez 
jamais  durablenientJ^^  Pourquoi  Priam  est-il  si  path^tique? 
Ce  n'est  pas  parce  que  c'est  un  p6re  qui  pleure  la  mort  de 
son  fils,  sans  quoi  le  marechal  de  Belle-Isle  recevant  la  nou- 
velle  de  la  mort  du  comte  de  Gisors,  serait  aussi  touchant 
que  Priam.  Ce  qui  rend  celui-ci  pathetique,  c'est  le  soin 
qu'il  met  a  remplir  un  devoir  r6put6  sacre,  celui  de  donner 
la  sepulture  a  son  fils.  Ce  devoir  si  saint  est  fonde  sur  un 
prejuge  que  vous  et  moi  ne  respectons  gu6ro:  car  qu'importe 
qu'un  cadavre  soit  mange  par  les  oiseaux  de  proie  ou  par 
les  vers  de  terre?  Pourquoi  done  sommes-nous  si  attendris 
par  la  priere  de  Priam?  C'est  qu'il  n'y  a  que  les  prejug4s 
de  touchant  en  poesie;    c'est  que  celui-ci   suppose   des  moeurs 

"Marmontel.  PoHique  fran(:nise,   (1763),  vol.   II,  p.  294  ff. 
•''  (Not   italicized   in   the  original.) 


74  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

simples  et  bien  pures,  qu'il  est  fonde  sur  une  infinite  de 
vertus  et  de  qualites  honnetes  et  sociales;  et  lorsqu'il  met  un 
vieillard,  venerable  par  son  age  et  par  son  rang,  dans  la 
neeessite  de  tomber  aux  pieds  du  vainqueur  et  du  meurtrier 
de  son  fils,  il  produit  un  tableau  qui  dechire"  (Corr.  litt., 
V.  484  f.) 

There  is  probably  more  in  these  ideas  than  appears  in 
Grimm's  transcription.  To  explain  the  paradoxical  contrast 
between  Diderot's  benevolence  toward  the  Greeks'  prejudices 
and  his  hatred  of  those  of  his  own  age,  we  may  rightly  assume 
that  he  regarded  the  former  as  beneficial  to  society  and  the 
latter  as  detrimental  to  the  common  weal.  But  the  possibility 
is  not  excluded  that  Diderot,  whom  Grimm  did  not  fully  under- 
stand on  this  point,  was  also  endeavoring  to  establish  a  parallel 
between  the  tragic  situations  and  the  heroes  of  Homer  and 
those  of  the  modern  drama-tragedy,  in  order  to  assert  the 
identity  of  the  ancient  and  philosophic  tragic  genres.  Achilles 
and  the  Father  of  the  Family  are  alike  heroic,  in  that  they  are 
obliged  to  stifle  their  natural  feelings  out  of  deference  to 
prejudice.  For  "heroes,  romantic  lovers,  great  patriots,  apostles 
of  religion,  philosophers  a  toutc  outrancc,  all  these  rare  and 
divine  madmen  make  poetry  in  life.'"^  Whence  we  may  infer 
that  the  heroes  of  bourgeoise  and  historical  drama  and  tragedy 
y  are  none  the  less  heroic  and  poetical  for  their  being  modern. 
The  legitimacy  of  the  ancestry  of  the  new  theatre  thus  estab- 
lished, its  a-priority  would   follow  as  a  matter   of   course. 

Whether  this  rapprochement  between  ancient  and  Dide- 
rotian  drama  is  well-founded  or  not,  it  is  certain  that,  "poetic" 
because  of  the  "nature"  which  was  its  theme,  Greek  drama  was 
no  less  so  for  its  lyricism,  for  its  expression  in  which  a  har- 
mony reminiscent  of  natural  accent  accompanied  a  marvellously 
plastic  language  only  recently  separated  from  the  "langage 
d'action" ^  If  the  parallellism  of  ancient  and  philosophic  drama 
is  to  subsist,  we  must  admit  that,  as  already  intimated,  Diderot 
did  not  intend  to  proscribe  "poetic"  manners  of   expression. 

Dacier  tells  us  that  Greek  dramatic  poetry  "was  first  the 
daughter  of  religion,  that  it  then  abandoned  itself  to  dissolution 

^^'xi,  125  (Salon  de  J767).  ^  Cf.  iii,  481. 


"LE  DRAME"  75 

and  debauchery  and  finally  submitted  to  the  rules  of  art  which 
came  to  the  rescue  of  nature,  putting  an  end  to  its  mis- 
conduct." ''  Diderot,  on  the  contrary,  seems  to  ha\  e  felt  that 
from  the  time  of  its  conception  "in  the  wedlock  of  national 
superstition  and  poetry" '^  to  that  of  its  perfection  by  tragedians 
who  were  also  philosophers  and  statesmen,  the  growth  of  Greek 
tragedy  was  entirely  unimpeded  and  natural,  a  product  of  free- 
dom and  vcrz'c  perfectly  apposite  to  the  )uorcs  and  ideas  of  the 
Greeks.  It  could  not  have  been  otherwise  in  an  harmonious 
society  in  wliich  art  sprung  from  life  and  returned  to  it.  Tie 
never  tired  of  recommending  the  study  of  the  old  tragedians 
as  the  best  companions  in  the  direct  observation  of  nature: 

"Je  ne  me  lasserai  point  de  crier  a  nos  Frangais:  'La 
V^rite!  La  Nature!  les  Anciens!  Sophocle!  Philoctete' " 
(vii,  120). 

Diderot  especially  admired  the  ancients'  al)ility  to  conjure 
up  life  in  all  its  energy'  and  fecundity  with  the  sim!)lest  means" 
— a  simple  dramatic  action  taken  up  toward  the  end  in  order 
that  tension  be  at  maximum,  and  drawn  easily  and  inexorably 
to  its  preordained  conclusion ;  a  catastrophe  ever  imminent  and 
ahvays  held  back  by  a  simple  and  true  circumstance,  a  few 
characters  firmly  drawn ;  energetic  ])assions  and  discourses, 
direct  presentation  of  action,  and  beautiful  tableaux:  no  elab- 
orate decorations,  no  conventional  analyses,  intrigues,  or  coups 
de  theatre.  In  these  respects  he  hoped  that  "le  drame"  might 
equal  ancient  tragedy. 

Was  ancient  tragedy  superior  in  technique  to  that  perfected 
by  Racine  or  Corneille?  As  already  stated,  Diderot  is  reticent 
about  the  shortcomings  of  modern  tragedy  in  the  Entretlens 
and  De  la  Pocsie  drainat'ujue!^  Yet  even  before  his  definitive 
condemnation  of  heroic  tragedy  in   the  Paradoxc  sur  le  come- 

^^  Dacier,  La  poHique  d'Aristote   (Paris,  1692),  pref.  p.   iv. 

^vii,  155.  ''vii,  316,   121. 

^  The  Additions  to  the  Lettre  swr  Ics  Sottrds  (I,  428)  would  divide 
honors  equally,  but  Diderot  is  there  trying  to  prejudice  us  against 
the  Trevoux  journalist. 


76  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

dicn,  the  Sultana  of  the  Bijoux  indiscrets  leaves  little  room  for 
doubt  as  to  its  inferiority: 

"Selim,  repondit  la  sultane,  Ricaric  vous...clira  pour- 
quoi  nos  tragedies  sont  inferieures  a  celles  des  Anciens; 
pour  moi,  je  me  ehargerai  volontiers  de  vous  montrer  que 
cela  est...  Mettez  a  part  certaines  idees  relatives  a  leurs 
usages,  a  leurs  mceurs,  et  a  leur  religion,  et  qui  ne  vous  cho. 
quent  que  parce  que  les  conjonctures  ont  change;  et  con- 
venez  que  leurs  sujets  sont  nobles,  bien  clioisis,  interessants, 
que  Taction  se  developpe  comme  d'elle  meme;  que  les 
denouements  n'y  sont  pas  forces,  que  I'interet  n'y  est  point 
partage,  ni  Taction  surchargee  par  des  episodes.  Transportez- 
vous  en  idee  dans  Tile  d'Alindala; . . .  approchez-vous  de  la 
caverne  du  malheureux  Polipsile  [i.  e..  Sophocles'  Philoc- 
tetes] ;  ne  perdez  pas  un  mot  de  ses  plaintes,  et  dites-moi 
si  rien  vous  tire  de  Tillusion.  Citez-mol  une  piece  moderne 
qui  puisse  supporter  le  meme  examen  et  pretendre  au  meme 
degre  de  perfection,  et  je  me  tiens  pour  vaincue"  (iv,  284, 
cf.  iii,  481  f..  viii,  405  f.). 

One  would  look  in  vain  in  the  writings  of  Diderot  for  an 
historical  expose  of  the  way  in  which  drama  and  tragedy  re- 
flected the  succesive  mental  and  social  revolutions.  Bishop 
Hurd  saw  in  the  theatre  of  American  Indians  something  ap- 
proaching the  genre  larmoyant,  and  Diderot  who,  in  the  Bijoux 
indiscrets,  had  a  savage  sit  in  judgment  on  French  tragedy, 
might  have  been  also  expected  to  notice  the  theatre  of  primitive 
peoples.  He  does  nothing  of  the  sort,  nor  does  he  discuss  the 
"system"  of  Shakespeare  and  its  relation  to  that  of  the  an- 
cients.^' Living  in  a  "Gothic"  age,  Shakespeare  should  have 
vied  with  Homer  in  Diderot's  esteem:  there  are  enough  butch- 
eries in  Shakespeare  to  stamp  him  as  "poetic."  Diderot's 
enthusiasm  for  Shakespeare  was  dampened,  however,  by  the 
realization  that  the  English  poet  was  w^anting  in  taste  and 
measure;  he  lacked  the  noble  simplicity  of  Homer.'*  This  is 
very  faint  praise,  indeed. 

^'  On  Shakespeare  in  France,  v.  Baldensperger,  Etudes  d'histoire 
litt^raire.  .2e  svrie   (Paris,  1910). 

^Cf.  vii,  137,  374;  ii,  331  (Refutation  d'HelvMius) ;  xv,  37  (Art. 
''Genie");  xix,  465    (To  Voltaire,  Sept.  29,  1762). 


"LE   DIJAME"  77 

"Le  sublime  et  le  g^nie  brillent  dans  Shakespeare  comme 
des  Eclairs  dans  une  longue  nuit." 

"Convenez  que  c'est  un  homme  bien  extraordinaire  que 
Shakespeare.  11  n  y  a  pas  uno  de  ces  scenes  dont  avcc  un 
peu  de  talent  on  ne  fit  une  grande  chose...  Et  puis  quelle 
rapidity  et  quel  nombre!" 

'I'liis  iiiuch  is  certain,  that  Diderot  regarded  (jallo-cla.s.sic 
tragedy  as  ancient  tragedy  distorted  and  ill  adapted  in  "matter" 
and  techniciuc  to  the  exigencies  of  the  new  age.  He  specifically 
mentions  two  -changes  introduced  I)y  the  \ariation  in  religious 
beliefs.  The  "wickedness  of  men"  had  replaced  in  modern 
tragedy  the  "Destiny"  of  the  ancients."  Again,  the  modern.s 
paid  more  attention  to  characterization  than  the  ancients,  whose 
religion  hypostatized  virtues  and  vices,  with  the  consequence 
that  the  poet  could  not  draw  well  defined  characters.  For  had 
he  done  so  he  would  have  duplicated  the  work  of  mythology' — 
"II  eut  double  des  etres;  il  aurait  montre  la  memc  passion  sous 
la  forme  d'un  dieu  et  sous  celle  d'un  homme."""  (The  psy- 
chological superiority  of  Christian  writers  was  asserted  later 
with  different  motivations  by  Chateaubriand  and  Hugo.)  lUit 
to  offset  these  improvements,  if  we  may  so  call  them,  a  thing 
Diderot   seems   reluctant   to  admit, — 

"nous  n'avons  rien  epargne  pour  corrompre  le  genre 
dramatique.  Nous  avons  conserve  des  anciens  I'emphase  de 
la  versification  qui  convenait  tant  a  des  langues  a  quantite 
forte  et  a  accent  marque,  a  des  theatres  spacieux,  a  une 
declamation  notee  et  accompagnee  d'instruments;  et  nous 
avons  abandone  la  simplicite  de  I'intrigue  et  du  dialogue, 
et  la  verite  des  tableaux"  (vii,  121). 

The  hvbrid  tragic  "system"  then  prevailing  was  something 
half-true  and  half- false,  that  is  to  say,  the  worst  thing  im- 
aginable. Further  down  we  shall  note  that  Diderot  somehow 
connected  the  loss  of  the  sense  of  artistic  fitness  with  the 
advent  of  theocracy  and  the  system  of  privileges.     Yet  he  was 

^  For  a  defence  of  the  Greek  conception  of  fate  from  the  attack 
of  Beaumarchais,  v.  Corr.  Litt.,  vii,  414. 
"  vii,  155. 


78  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

generous  enough  to  recognize  the  share  which  the  "philosophic 
spirit"  had  in  the  decadence  of  art.  We  say  generous,  because 
it  is  to  be  supposed  that  Diderot  reaUzed  that  the  "drama"  was 
as  much  endangered  by  the  philosophic  spirit  as  heroic  tragedy. 
The  disappearance  of  superstition,  of  feudal  and  barbarous 
customs,  of  prejudices  of  all  sorts,  deprived  art  of  its  most 
picturesque  material.  Diderot  believed,  with  Vico  and  the 
adversaries  of  the  "philosophes,"  that  under  scientific  discipline 
the  imagination  was  tamed  and  poetry  vanished.  In  De  la 
Pocsie  dramatiquc  Diderot  had  praised  the  good  old  times  for 
their  poetic  color.  The  crimes  of  Christianity,  he  was  always 
glad  to  point  out,  made  excellent  dramatic  material.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  Age  of  Reason,  by  enthroning  the  "philosophical 
spirit,"  dried  up  the  sources  of  poetic  inspiration: 

"Partout  decadence  de  la  verve  et  de  la  poesie,  a  mesure 
que  I'esprit  philosophique  a  fait  des  progres;  on  cesse  de  cul- 
tiver  ce  qu'on  meprise.  Platon  chasse  les  poetes  de  sa  cite. 
L'esprit  philosophique  veut  des  comparaisons  plus  resserrees, 
plus  strides,  plus  rigoureuses;  sa  marche  circonspecte  est 
ennemie  du  mouvement  et  des  figures.  Le  regne  des  images 
passe  a  mesure  que  celui  des  choses  s'etend.  II  s'introduit 
par  la  raison  une  exactitude,  une  precision,  une  methode, 
pardonnez-moi  le  mot,  une  sorte  de  pedanterie  qui  tue  tout. 
Tous  les  prejuges  civils  et  religieux  se  dissipent;  et  il  est 
incroyable  combien  I'incredulite  ote  de  ressources  a  la  po6sie. 
Les  moeurs  se  policent;  les  usages  barbares,  poetiques  et 
pittoresques  cessent;  et  il  -  est  incroyable  le  mal  que  cette 
monotone  politesse  porte  a  la  poesie.  L'esprit  philosophique 
amene  le  style  sententieux  et  sec.  Les  expressions  abstraites 
qui  renferment  un  grand  nombre  de  phenomenes  se  multi- 
plient  et  prennent  la  place  des  expressions  figurees. . . ." 
(xi,  131  f..  Salon  de  J767). 

In  criticizing  the  "philosophic  spirit"  Diderot  aimed  at 
something  more  general  than  the  state  of  mind  of  the  Ency- 
clopedists. He  had  in  mind  all  the  exponents  of  rationalism, 
including  the  grands  classiqiies.  If  we  are  right  in  identifying 
him  with  the  "Philosopher"  of  the  Corrcspoiidancc  Uttcrairc  of 
1764,  we  recognize  Diderot's  predilection  for  the  biographic 
sort  of  tragedy  when  that  "philosopher"  informs  us  that  French 


"LE   DRAME"  7l) 

trag'ic  authors  liave  hoon  \vion<;  in  constantly  endeavoring  to 
(.Iraw  i^^eneral  man,  the  man  of,  instead  of  jor,  all  a,-;cs  and 
countries. 

"Le  philosophe . .  .  Pourquoi  6ter  ii  uiie  pierre  pr^cleuse 
ce  qui  la  distingue  et  lui  donne  son  caract^re?  Je  ne  sais  bI 
c'est  la  faute  de  la  poesie  ou  du  genie  des  Frangais;  mais, 
dans  nos  poemes,  la  monotonie  des  moeurs  me  parait  encore 
plus  grande  que  celle  des  vers.  Convenez  que  dans  Racine 
et  Voltaire,  Achille  et  Henri  III,  Orosmane  et  le  due  de  Foix. 
Burrhus  et  Lisois,  sont  le  m&me  personnage  sous  une  denom- 
ination et  dans  une  situation  differentes. 

Lc  pocte.  —  Vous  croyez  done  que  tons  nos  pontes 
n'ont  qu'un  seul  et  meme  patron  sur  lequel  ils  decoupent 
tons  leurs  personnages? 

Le  pliilosophe.  —  Pr6cisement.  lis  ont  des  traits 
generaux  pour  peindre  un  jeune  heros  bouillant  et  superbe, 
plein  de  feu  et  de  generosite;  ils  en  ont  pour  peindre  un 
vieillard.  un  tyran,  une  mere  tendre,  une  amante  passionee; 
mais  dans  tout  cela,  rien  de  national,  rien  qui  rappelle  les 
moeurs  et  le  siecle,  rien  qui  justifie  le  nom  du  personnage 
et  qui  lui  donne  de  la  physionomie  et  de  la  verite."  ^ 

The  tragic  heroes  of  the  moderns  thus  tend  to  become 
schematic  figures,  mere  "rar/rfl/;n-t\s-  en  beau."*'  Xo  doubt  Dide- 
rot must  have  swelled  the  chorus  of  those  who  saw  in  love  and 
gallantry  essentials  of  traditional  French  tragedy ;  but  he  did 
so  in  order  to  blame  the  practice  and  to  point  out  that  realistic 
"drama"  and  tragedy  were  above  reproach. 

Rut  the  main  source  of  theatrical  evil — an  evil  from  whicli 
the  new  "drama"  was  exempt — was  the  translation  of  social 
(or,  rather,  unsocial)  prejudices  into  esthetic  norms.  This  is 
a  natural  consequence  of  the  identification  of  taste  and  mores. 

"Si  le  systeme  moral  est  corrompu,  il  faut  que  le  goOt 
soit  faux.  La  v6rite  et  la  vertu  sont  les  amies  des  beaux 
arts."  *' 

^  Corr.  Utt..  V,  485  f.  This  may  be  in  part  a  rejoinder  to  con- 
temporary  criticism  by   non-French   authors,   of   "French   taste." 

*'Cf.  vii.  SOS.  We  have  seen  that  according  to  Diderot  tragedy- 
is  less  "general"  than  comedy. 

"vii,  318.    Cf.  also  Rousseau,  Emile.  Bk.  iv;   Lettrc  a  (VAleinbert. 


80  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

All  his  life  Diderot  was  most  insistent  on  the  inseparability  of 
beauty  from  truth  and  goodness. 

"Pour  juger  ici  tie  quel  cote  est  le  bon  gout  il  faut  bien 
determiner  tie  quel  cote  sont  les  bonnes  mceurs...  Son  gout 
se  reduit  a  ceci;  j'alnie  le  vice;  et  le  mien  a  ceci;  j'aime  la 
vertu.  II  en  est  ainsi  de  presque  tons  les  jugements" 
(xix,  120). 

"Une  belle  ame  ne  va  guere  avec  un  gout  faux;  peut-on 
avoir  du  gout  quand  on  a  le  cceur  corrompu?"    (xii,  75). 

Instead  of  tracing  with  Rousseau  the  origin  of  art  to  taste 
for  laziness  and  ostentation/"'  Diderot  held  with  the  English 
writers  that  both  taste  and  moral  sensibility  were  identical  in 
their  origin.  The  instinct  of  artistic  imitation  and  that  of 
sociality  are  correlated.  Luxury  and  the  spirit  of  material  gain, 
the  great  corruptors  of  morals,  are  also  the  plague  of  letters. 
Owing  to  their  influence  social  coherence  is  loosened  and  cer- 
tain classes  gain  ascendency.  Under  such  circumstances,  "par 
une  veneration  ridicule  pour  certaines  conditions,  bientot  ce 
sont  les  seules  dont  on  peigne  les  moeurs."  The  middle  class 
is  then  vowed  to  comedy  as  if  there  were  something  inherently 
comical  about  those  vocations  which  it  is  safe  to  attack.  (We 
see  here  sur  le  vif  how  Diderot's  political  aims  squared  with 
his  theory.)  Presently,  the  "gout  que  Ton  tient  de  leducation 
et  de  I'habitude  du  grand  monde"  is  substituted  to  "celui  qui 
nait  du  sentiment  de  I'honnete."  No  poetics  is  then  possible 
because  there  is  no  unity  of  esthetic  principles."  The  much 
vaunted  "good"  taste  of  French  society,  in  particular,  changed 
with  fashion  or  bowed  to  arbitrary  "hicnscanccs." 

"Nous  dirions,  d'une  femme  qui  ressemblerait  a  quel- 
qu'une  de  ces  statues  qui  enchantent  nos  regards  aux  Tui- 
leries,  qu'elle  a  la  tete  jolie,  mais  le  pied  gros,  la  jambe 
forte  et  point  de  taille.  La  femme  qui  est  belle  pour  le 
sculpteur  sur  un  S3fa.  est  laide  dans  son  atelier.  Nous 
sommes  pleins  de  ess  contradictions"   (vii,  373). 

•"'Rousseau,  Discours  sur  les  arts   (1750). 
"'x.  118;   vii,  372.    Cf.  also  E7nile,  bk.  iv. 


"LE  DRAME"  81 

Under  such  circumstances  art  takes  to  "mannerism"  or 
Academicism.  "La  maniere  est  dans  les  beaux-arts  ce  (jue 
I'hypocrisie  est  dans  les  mceurs.""  Tseudo-Classic  idealism,  the 
cult  of  bel-esprit,  we  may  add,  is  a  companion  to  moral 
h)'pocrisy. " 

''Quelle  sera  done  la  ressource  d'un  po^te,  chez  un  peuple 
dont  les  moeurs  sont  faibles,  -petites  et  manieroes;  oil  I'imi- 
tation  rigoureuse  des  conversations  ne  formerait  qu'un  tissu 
d'expressions  fausses.  insensees  et  bassos;  oil  il  n'y  a  plus 
ni  franchise,  ni  bonhomie;  on  un  pSre  appelle  son  fils  mon- 
sieur, et  oil  une  mere  appelle  sa  fille  mademoiselle;  oil  les 
ceremonies  publiques  n'ont  rlen  d'auguste;  la  conduite  domes- 
tique,  rien  de  touchant  et  d'honnete;  les  actes  solennels,  rien 
de  vrai?  II  tachera  de  les  embellir;  il  choisira  les  circon- 
stances  qui  pretent  le  plus  a  son  art;  il  negligera  les  autres, 
et  il  osera  en  supposer  quelques-unes. 

"Mais  quelle  finesse  de  gout  ne  lui  faudra-t-il  pas,  pour 
sentir  jusqu'oQ  les  mceurs  publiques  et  particulieres  peuvent 
etre  embellies?  S'il  passe  la  mesure,  il  sera  faux  et  roma- 
nesque. . ."    (vii,   372). 

Was  Diderot's  age  really  a  "siccle  du  gout"  and  not  a 
"sicclc  dii  genie" f  A  serious  matter  that,  for  once  a  people  is 
afraid  of  artistic  innovations,  once  it  sets  arbitrary  limits  to 
the  effects  of  art  and  upholds  false  standards  of  "taste,"  it 
might  persist  in  its  course  for  centuries.  In  such  centuries 
genius  slumbers  and  the  voice  of  nature  is  not  heeded.  Dorval 
was   fully  aware  of  the  gravity  of  such  a  situation: 

''Dorval. — Ah!  bienseanees  cruelles,  que  vous  rendez  les 
ouvrages  decants  et  petits!  .  . .  Mais,  ajouta  Dorval  d'un  sang- 
froid qui  me  surprit.  Ce  que  je  propose  ne  se  peut  done 
plus? 

Moi. — Je  ne  crois  pas  que  nous  en  venions  jamais  1^. 

Dorval. — Eh  bien,  tout  est  perdu!  Corneille,  Racine, 
Voltaire,  Crebillon,  ont  regu  les  plus  grands  applaudisse- 
ments  auxquels  des  hommes  de  genie  pouvaient  pretendre; 
et  la  tragedie  est  arrivee  parmi  nous  au  plus  haut  degre  de 
perfection"   (vii,  118). 

«xii.  121.  ^'Cf.  xi,  112. 


82  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

V^oltaire,  who  about  the  year  1758  seemed  to  be  the  only 
man  talented  enough  to  secure  a  hearing  for  the  new  genres,. 
incensed  the  false  gods  of  tradition.^  Happily,  Diderot  never 
quite  lost  faith  in  the  coming  of  a  literary  Messiah,  As  Dorval 
had  said: 

"II  y  a  cependant  une  ressource:  il  faut  esperer  que 
quelque  jour  un  homme  de  genie  sentira  rimpossibilite 
d'atteindre  ceux  qui  I'ont  precede  dans  une  route  battue,  et 
se  jettera  de  depit  dans  une  autre:  c'est  le  seul  evenement 
qui  puisse  nous  affranchir  de  plusieurs  prejuges  que  la 
philosophie  a  vainement  attaques.  Ce  ne  sont  plus  des  rai- 
sons,  c'est  une  production  qu'il  nous  faut"  (vii,  119;  cf. 
157,  313). 

In  literature  as  in  politics,  the  Jacobin  expects  the  good 
to  come  out  of  an  excess  of  evil.  Just  as  Diderot  hoped  a 
genius  would  take  to  the  new  tragic  genre  "out  of  spite"  after 
failing  in  the  old,  he  expected  the  old  Bastille  of  rules  and 
conventions  to  be  stormed  by  the  public  "au  bout  du  siecle," 
'iorsque  I'ennui  porte  a  son  comble  a  enfreint  ces  bornes 
etroites  et  qu'il  est  devenu  I'unique  germe  de  quelques  produc- 
tions nouvelles  et  la  source  d'un  plaisir." 

"On  fait  des  tragedies  bourgeoises.  Que  font  alors 
toutes  les  tetes  moutonnieres,  tons  ces  demi-penseurs  qui 
ne  remontent  a  I'essence  d'e  rien?  lis  ramassent  autorite 
sur  autorite  pour  decrier  le  genre  nouveau;  le  peuples  les 
croit;  ce  sont  ses  vrais  legislateurs.  . .  Les  premiers  efforts 
sont  decourages;  I'homme  de  genie  s'arrete  au  premier  pas. 
Une  nation  plus  libre,  plus  affranchie  de  prejuges  recueille 
la  lumiere  que  Ton  porte  a  s'eteindre  ou  en  tire  parti;  ou 
le  peuple,  las  de  s'ennuyer  a  des  redites  perpetuelles,  force 
par  ce  vieux  style  dont  il  ne  saurait  se  departir,  se  prete 
plus  par  son  interet  de  plaisir  que  par  sa  raison  a  un  nou- 
veau genre...."    (viii,   441,  Projet  de  preface,   1762). 

In  the  next  chapter  we  shall  see  how  Diderot's  expectations 
varied  with  the  success  of  his  dramatic  experiments.  At  the 
time  of  the  Entretiens  and  Dc  la  Poesie  draniafique  he  Avas  per- 
force content  to  praise  a  few  "dramas"  and  domestic  tragedies' 

"Cf.  vii,  120. 


-LE   UIIAME"  83 

and  to  nolo  with  dolij^ht  the  si)i"cacl  of  philosojihic  ideas  which 
indicated  that  tlic  "spirit  of  the  century"  was  becoming  active: 

"Je  crois  qii'en  un  ouvraso.  (lueUiu'il  soil,  I'osprit  du 
si^cle  doit  se  renuirquer.  Si  la  morale  s*t''pure,  si  le  prejuge 
s'affaibilit,  si  les  esprits  out  line  pente  a  la  bienfaisance  g6n6- 
rale,  si  le  goilt  des  choses  utiles  s'est  r^pandu,  si  le  peuple 
s'interesse  aux  op<?rations  du  ministre,  il  faut  qu'on  s'en 
apergoive,  meme  dans  una  comedie. . ."  (vii,  128,  Dcuxiime 
entretien). 

''Mais  les  temps  de  barbarie  sont  passes;  le  si6cle  s'est 
^clair^;  la  raison  s'est  epur^e;  ses  preceptes  remplissent  les 
ouvrages  de  la  nation.  Ceux  ou  Ton  inspire  aux  homnies 
la  bienveillance  g^nerale  sont  presque  les  seuls  (lui  soient  lu.s. 
Voil^  les  legons  dont  nos  theatres  retentissent  et  dont  ils  ne 
peuvent  retentir  trop  souvent;  le  philosophe  dont  vous 
m'avez  rappele  les  vers  [Voltaire]  doit  principalement  ses 
succ6s  aux  sentiments  d'humanite  qu'il  a  repandus  dans  ses 
po6mes  et  au  pouvoir  qu'ils  ont  sur  nos  ames"  (vii,  68, 
Constance  in   le  Fils   naturcl). 

"Je  vois  deja,  dans  la  societe,  que  si  quelqu'un  s'avise 
de  montrer  une  oreille  trop  delicate,  on  en  rougit  pour  lui. 
Le  theatre  frangais  attendra-t-il,  pour  suivre  cet  exemple, 
que  son  dictionnaire  soit  aussi  borne  que  le  dictionnaire  du 
theatre  lyrique  et  que  le  nombre  des  expressions  honnetes 
soit  egal  a  celui  des  expressions  musicales?"  (vii,  131, 
Deuxicvie  entretien). 

Yet  for  the  definitive  establishment  of  the  new  "system" 
there  was  need  of  actors,  a  stage — from  the  mere  establishing 
at  Paris  of  a  playhouse  like  that  of  Lyons,  Diderot  expected 
"une  multitude  de  poemes,"  "peut-etre  cjuelques  genres  nou- 
veaux,'"' — perhaps  a  people,'"  and  certainly  a  favorable  govern- 
ment, for  Diderot  believed  that  the  nature  and  progress  of  the 
various  literary  genres  were  strongly  influenced  by  political 
circumstances.''"      He   was   mindful,   ])erhaps,   of    the    impending 

«vii,  114  f.  "'vii,  118. 

"Cf.    vii,    166,    183,    370;    x,    507.      V.    also    d'Alembert,    Dlscour.f 
priliminaire,  ed.   Picavet,   p.    125. 


84  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

battle  between  philosophes  and  devots  when  he  spoke  of  poH- 
tical  catastrophes  furnishing  the  "poetic"  and  "heroic"  material 
needed  by  tragic  authors : 

"C'est  lorsque  la  fureur  de  la  guerre  civile  ou  du  fana- 
tisme  arme  les  hommes  de  poignards,  et  que  le  sang  coule 
a  grands  flots  sur  la  terre,  que  le  laurier  d'ApolIon  s'agite 
et  verdit.  II  en  veut  etre  arrose.  II  se  fletrit  dans  les  temps 
de  la  paix  et  du  loisir.  Le  siecle  d'or  eut  produit  une  chan- 
son peut-etre  ou  une  elegie.  La  poesie  epique  et  la  poesie 
dramatique  demandent  d'autres  moeurs. 

Quand  verra-t-on  naitre  des  poetes?  Ce  sera  apres  les 
temps  de  desastres  et  de  grands  malheurs;  lorsque  les  peu- 
ples  harrasses  commenceront  a  respirer.  Alors  les  imagina- 
tions, ebranlees  par  des  spectacles  terribles,  peindront  des 
choses  inconnues  a  ceux  qui  n'en  ont  pas  ete  temoins...." 
(vii,  371  f.) 

This  is  not  a  speculative  commonplace,  but  orthodox 
Encyclopedic  politics.  For,  combining  Du  Bos'  theory  of  sud- 
den progress  with  Buffon's  notion  of  cataclysmic  periods,  the 
Discoiirs  preliminaire  of  the  Encyclopedia  states  that  "la  con- 
stitution physique  du  monde  litteraire  entraine,  comme  celle  du 
monde  materiel  des  revolutions  forcees,  dont  il  serait  aussi 
injuste  de  se  plaindre  que  du  changement  des  saisons."'" 
D'Alembert  believed  that  modern  society  had  risen  out  of 
barbarism  by  "tme  de  ces  revolutions  qui  font  prendre  a  la 
terre  une  face  nouvelle :  I'Empire  grec  est  detruit." "  He 
expected  "une  revolution  redoutable,"  "une  espece  d'avalanche 
tres  funeste,"  "la  barbaric  ou  une  foule  de  circonstances  ten- 
dent  a  nous  precipiter,"  to  put  an  end  to  the  literary  sterility 
and  "faux  gout"  which  were  then  prevailing.  Probably  Diderot 
thought  a  "revolution" — in  the  common  meaning  of  the  word — 
was  needed  as  an  antidote  to  the  unpoetic  rationalism  of  the 
"philosophic  spirit."  At  any  rate,  he  reverted  to  the  idea  that 
sanguinary  encounters  were  artistically   fruitful,   some   fourteen 

°"  D'Alembert,  op.  cit..  p.  119.  Cf.  also  Rousseau,  Discours  sur 
Tincgolite  (1755).  There  is,  to  be  sure,  a  long  tradition  behind  this 
conception,  which  underlies  also  the  sketch  of  artistic  progress  made 
by  Pei'rau^t  in  his  ParoUrles. 

'■'  D'Alembert,  I.  cit..  p.  78. 


"LE  DRAME"  85 

years  after  his  first  dramatic  manifestos,  when  the  coup  d'etat 
MaupcoH  persuaded  him  that  "on  touche  en  Prance  a  une  crise 
qui  aboutira  ou  a  I'esclavage  ou  a  la  liberte."  He  wrote  to 
Wilkes,  November  14,  1771  : 

"Les  sciences  et  les  arts  nous  quittent.  Si  leur  naissance 
niontre  un  peuple  qui  sort  de  la  barbarle;  leur  progr^s,  un 
peuple  qui  s'achemine  h.  la  grandeur;  leur  splendeur,  un 
peuple  ^lair^,  puissant  et  florissant;  leur  m^pris,  leur  indi- 
gence et  leur  degradation  doivent  marquer  un  peuple  qui 
descend  et  qui  s'en  retourne  k  la  stupidite  et  ci  la  misfire. 
On  me  deniandait  un  jour  comment  on  rendait  la  vigueur 
a  une  nation  qui  I'avait  perdue;  je  r^pondis  comme  Med6e 
rendit  la  jeunesse  a  son  pfire;  en  le  depegant  et  en  le  faisant 
bouillir"     (Quoted  by  Cru,  Diderot,  p.  477). 

It  is  true  that  when  the  political  and  philosophic  crises 
passed,  this  Jacobin  avant  la  Icttrc  would  regain  his  bourgeoise 
composure.  Yet  it  seems  that  his  normal  attitude  was  not  un- 
like that  of  the  present  day  adepts  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution- 
ary-revolution. The  word  "revolution,"  as  ambiguous  in  mean- 
ing with  the  writers  of  the  eighteenth  century  as  w'ith  the  Marx- 
ists of  our  days,  distinctly  favored  such  an  attitude.  In  one  of 
Diderot's  contributions  to  the  Histoire  philosophiquc  des  Indcs^^ 
which  appeared  under  the  name  of  the  Abbe  Raynal,  we  are 
privileged  to  see  Diderot's  alternating  a  prediction  of  peace 
with  one  of  revolution.     This  is  from  Diderot  the  pacifist : 

''L'Europe. .  .paratt  avoir  pris  une  assiette  trop  solide  et 
trop  fixe  pour  donner  lieu  a  des  revolutions  rapides  et  sur- 
prenantes. . .  .  Le  fanatisme  de  religion  et  I'esprit  de  con- 
quete.  ces  deux  causes  perturbatrices  du  globe,  ont  cesse..." 
(iv,  41  f.,  Fragments  politiques). 

Now,  especially  in  the  lines  italicized,  for  the  prophet  of 
disaster: 

"Si  Ton  me  demande  ce  que  deviendront  la  philosophie, 
les  lettres  et  les  beaux-arts  sous  le  calme  et  la  duree  de  ces 
societes  mercantiles. . . .  je   repondrai   par   une  autre  question, 

"  Bk.   vi,  ch.  1.     Diderot  worked  at  Raynal's  book   in   1765    (xix, 
208). 


86  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

et  je  demanderai  qu'est-ce  qu'il  y  a  dans  ces  objets  [e.  g., 
mechanical  inventions]  qui  puisse  echauffer  les  ames,  les 
elever,  y  produire  I'enthousiasme?  Un  grand  negoeiant  est-il 
un  personnage  bien  propre  a  devenir  le  heros  d'un  poeme 
epique?  Je  ne  le  crois  pas.  Heureusement,  toute  cette  espece 
de  luxe  n'est  pas  fort  essentielle  au  bonheur  des  nations. 
Pent  etre  ne  trouverait-on  pas  une  belle  statue  dans  toute 
la  Suisse,  et  je  ne  pense  pas  que  les  treize  cantons  en 
soient  plus  malheureux.  Quelle  est  la  cause  des  progres  et 
de  r^clat  des  lettres  et  des  heaux-arts  chez  les  peuples  tant 
anciens  que  modernes?  La  multitude  d' actions  li^roiques  et 
de  grands  hommes  a  c^l^brer.  Tarissez  la  source  des  perils, 
et  vous  tarissez  en  meme  temps  celle  des  vertus,  des  forfaits, 
des  historiens,  des  orateurs  et  des  poetes...  Ce  fut  dans  les 
temps  ou  cette  bete  feroce  qu'on  appelait  le  peuple  remain 
ou  se  devorait  elle-meme,  ou  s'occupait  a  devorer  les  nations, 
que  les  historiens  ecrivirent  et  que  les  poetes  chanterent. 
Ce  fut  au  milieu  des  troubles  civils  en  Angleterre,  en  France 
apri-s  les  massacres  de  la  Ligue  et  de  la  Fronde,  que  des 
auteurs  immortels  parurent.  A  mesure  que  les  secousses 
violentes  d'une  nation  s'apaisent  et  s'eloignent,  les  ames  se 
calment,  les  images  des  dangers  s'effacent,  et  les  lettres  se 
taisent.  Les  grands  genies  se  convent  dans  les  temps 
difficiles;  ils  suivent  le  declin  des  nations,  ils  s'eteignent 
avec  elles;  mais  comme  il  est  rare  qu'une  nation  dis- 
pnraisse  sans  un  long  enchamement  de  desastres,  alors  I'en- 
thousiasme renait  dans  quelques  ames  privilegiees,  et  les 
productions  du  genie  sont  un  melange  bizarre  de  bon  et  de 
mauvais  gout;  on  y  remarque  la  richesse  du  moment  passe 
et  la  misere  du  moment  present.  Ces  genies  sont  comme 
les  derniires  pulsations  du  pouls  d'un  m.orihond.  Frangais, 
tatez-vous  le  pouls"    (iv,   43;    cf.   xi,   450   f..   Salon  de  1769). 

Faithful  to  his  habit,  Diderot  has  crowded  here  a  number 
of  rather  disconnected  ideas  which  do  not  admit  an  unequi- 
vocal interpretation.  Was  he  laboring  to  make  it  appear  that 
a  peaceful  and  unartistic  epoch  was  a  possible  and  desirable 
alternative  to  a  "long  chain  of  disasters"  and  political  revo- 
lutions, artistically  fruitful?  Or  did  he,  confronted  with  the 
necessity  of  choosing  between  these  alternatives,  revise  and 
contradict  some  of  his  early  artistic  beliefs?  Does  his  pro- 
fessing that  a  merchant  is  not  a  proper  hero  for  an  epic  poem 
imply  his  recognizing  that  the  theatre  bourgeois  was  a  failure. 


-LK   DUAME"  87 

and  does  his  wish  lor  the  absence  of  statues  and  silks  in(Ucate 
a  slackening  in  his  efforts  as  a  propagator  of  the  fine  and  use- 
ful arts?  In  the  absence  of  more  convincing  evidence  we  can- 
not assume  such  a  radical  change  of  mind.  A  less  violent 
explanation  of  these  utterances  makes  allowance  for  Diderot's 
disgust  with  the  utilitarianism  and  epicureanism  of  his  age.  It 
supposes  that  he  never  despaired  of  civilization  being  finally 
brought  in  close  touch  with  nature,  of  luxury  in  some  things 
being  the  companion  of  simplicity  in  others,  of  the  "lie"  of  arc 
being  ultimately  welded  to  the  truth  of  everyday  reahty.  Per- 
hajxs  he  thought  that  his  own  lifetime  marked  the  period  of 
transition  between  the  two  estates,  the  epoch  when  "les  pro- 
ductions du  genie  sont  un  melange  bizarre  de  bon  et  de  mauvais 
gout,"  and  "on  y  remarque  la  richesse  du  moment  passe  et  la 
misere  du  moment  present."  For  this  characterizes  pretty  well 
the  dramatic  situation  of  the  seventies:  on  the  one  side,  the 
old  dramatic  regime ;  on  the  other,  a  firmly  entrenched 
"hourcicoisc"  tragedy  and  an  incipient  "historical"  drama,  pic- 
turing the  catastrophes  and  splendors  of  the  past  and  bidding 
the  public  contrast  them  with  the  squalor  of  the  present.  But 
of  this  more  in  the  following  chapter. 


ACTING  AND  HISTORICAL  TRAGEDY 

I 

THE    "PARADOX"    IS    AN    ULTRA-RATIONALIST    VIEW    OF    THE 

ACTOR'S  ART 

The  work  which  Diderot  so  aptly  headed  Paradoxe  sur  le 
comcdien  is  probably  the  only  one  of  his  esthetic  writings  that 
is  still  widely  read.  Its  warm  epigrammatic  style,  its  store  of 
interesting  anecdotes  of  stage  Hfe,  its  baffling  obscurities  and 
suggestive  glimmers  of  truth  have  not  been  lost,  apparently, 
even  on  the  scientific  psychologists  who  cite  the  Paradoxe 
in  order  to  refute  it.  Strange  to  say,  that  work  and  its  fore- 
runner, the  paper  which  Diderot  published  in  Grimm's  Corres- 
pondance  Utteraire  of  October  i  and  November  15,  1770,  under 
the  title  Observations  sur  une  brochure  intitidce  "Garrick  on  les 
acteurs  anglais,"  have  not  yet  received  sufficient  attention  from 
the  students  of  Diderot's  ideas,  although  more  than  one  critic 
has  noticed  that  they  apparently  mark  a  turning  point  in  his 
philosophy  of  art. 

The  premises  of  the  Paradoxe  and  Observations  are  com- 
monplace enough.  Indeed,  Antonio  Fabio  Sticotti,  the  obscure 
author  of  Garrick  on  les  acteurs  anglais^  whom  Diderot  took  to 
task,  had  also  said  that  there  are  certain  means  of  expression 
a  player  must  be  gifted  with,  such  as  outward  appearance,  voice 
and  judgment,  and  that  by  dint  of  study  of  the  requirements 
of  the  stage,  through  worldly  experience  and  imitation  of  good 
models,  these  natural  gifts  may  be  greatly  improved  upon. 

Diderot's  originality  begins  with  his  distinction  of  three 
categories  of  players:^ 

I.     Actors  who  play  by  rote  and  are  not  worth  bothering 
about. 

'Adaptation  of  "Sir"  John  (not  Aaron)  Hill's  The  Actor:  a 
treatise  on  the  art  of  playing,  London  1750.  The  theoretical  portion 
of  this  book  is  taken  from  R.  de  Sainte-Albine,  Le  comeclien,  Paris, 
1747. 

^'viii,  344,  363. 


ACTING    AND    TR.VGEDY  89 

2.  Those  endowed  liy  nature  with  a  large  amount  of 
"scnsibilitr."  The  "coiiu'dicii  dc  naturi'."  guided  by  his 
feehngs,  forgets  his  own  personaUty,  identifying  him- 
self with  the  character  he  is  to  represent.  The  tem- 
peramental actor  may  occasionally  play  well  and  even 
reach  sublime  heights,  depending  on  the  status  of  his 
personality.  lUit  his  presentation  is  of  necessity  un- 
even and  often  detestable. 

3.  The  [)layers  who,  whether  impervious  to  emotion  or 
successful  in  curbing  whatever  "sensibilitc"  is  theirs 
by  birth,  deliberately  bring  to  bear  on  their  acting  the 
results  of  their  experience  and  research.  In  the  words 
of  Aristotle,  these  are  on  the  stage  "imitators"  through- 
out, always  mindful  of  dramatic  effect,  and  it  is  from 
their  ranks  that  the  really  great  mimes,  the  peers  of 
Roscius   and   Carrick,  have  been   recruited. 

This  enumeration  has  already  suggested  the  thesis  of 
Diderot,  to  the  effect  that  an  inverse  ratio  obtains  between 
histrionic  talent  and  emotionalism.  According  to  him,  the 
"actor  of  genius"  is  intellect  without  "sensibility."  In  other 
w^ords — and  here  we  see  why  it  is  a  "paradox"  with  which  we 
are  dealing — in  order  that  the  player  should  create  in  the  minds 
of  the  audience  the  illusion  of  a  man  swayed  by  emotion  he 
himself  must  not  share  in  such  illusion  and  emotion. 

"C'est  I'extreme  sensibilite  qui  fait  les  acteiirs  mediocres; 
c'est  la  sensibilite  mediocre  qui  fait  la  multitude  des  mauvais 
acteurs,  et  c'est  le  manque  absolu  de  sensibilite  qui  prepare 
les  acteurs  sublimes"   (viii,  370). 

"Moi,  je  lui  veux  beaucoup  de  jugement  [Diderot  is  talk- 
ing of  the  great  actor];  il  me  faut  dans  cet  homme  un  spec- 
tateur  froid  et  tranquille;  j'en  exige,  par  consequent,  de  la 
penetration  et  nulle  sensibilite,  I'art  de  tout  imiter,  ou,  ce 
qui  revient  au  meme,  une  egale  aptitude  a  toutes  sortes  de 
caract§res  et  de  roles"   (viii,  36.");   cf.  34.t). 

"Les  hommes  chauds,  violents,  sensibles  sont  en  sc^ne, 
ils  donnent  le  spectacle,  mais  ils  n'en  jouissent  pas.  C'est 
d'apres  eux  que  Thomme  de  g6nie  fait  sa  copie.     Les  grands 


90  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

poetes,  les  grands  acteurs,  et  peut-etre  en  general  tous  les 
grands  imitateurs  de  la  nature,  quels  qu'ils  soient,  doues 
d'une  belle  imagination,  d'un  grand  jugement,  d'un  tact  fin, 
d'un  gout  tres  sur,  sont  les  etres  les  moins  sensibles.  lis  sont 
egalement  propres  a  trop  de  choses;  ils  sont  trop  occupes  a 
regarder,  a  reconnaitre  et  a  imiter,  pour  etre  vivement 
affectes  au  dedans  d'eux-memes.  Je  les  vols  sans  cesse  le 
portefeuille  sur  les  genoux  et  le  crayon  a  la  main.  Nous 
sentons,  nous;  eux,  ils  observent,  etudient  et  peignent" 
(viii,  368,  cf.  347). 

Accordingly,  a  great  actor  reflects  like  a  mirror  the  ex- 
pression and  attitudes  of  men  and  feels  not  what  is  behind  the 
visible  surface.  The  play  ended,  the  actor  is  tired,  and  you, 
spectator,  are  sad.     Why? 

"C'est  qu'il  s'est  demene  sans  rien  sentir,  et  que  vous 
avez  senti  sans  vous  demener.  S'il  en  etait  autrement,  la 
condition  du  comedien  serait  la  plus  malheureuse  des  con- 
ditions; mais  il  n'est  pas  le  personnage,  il  le  joue  et  le  joue 
si  bien  que  vous  le  prenez  pour  tel:  I'illusion  n'est  que  pour 
vous;   il  salt  bien,  lui,  qu'il  ne  Test  pas"   (viii,  370). 

. . .  "Qu'est-ce  done  que  le  vrai  talent?  Celui  de  bien 
connattre  les  symptomes  exterieurs  de  I'ame  d'emprunt,  de 
s'adresser  a  la  sensation  de  ceux  qui  nous  enteudent,  qui 
nous  voient,  et  de  les  tromper  par  limitation  de  ces  symp- 
tomes, par  une  imitation  qui  agrandisse  tout  dans  leurs  tetes 
et  qui  devienne  la  regie  de  leur  jugement;  car  il  est  impos- 
sible d'apprecier  autrement  ce  qui  se  passe  au  dedans  de 
nous.  Et  que  nous  importe  en  effet  qu'ils  sentent  ou  qu'ils 
ne   sentent   pas,   pourvu   que    nous   I'ignorions?"    (viii,    404). 


II 
DIDEROT'S    CHANGE    OF    OPINION    ON    THIS    SUBJECT 

Paradoxical  because  of  its  vehement  denunciation  of 
"sensibility,"  the  Paradoxe  sur  le  comedien  is  likewise  com- 
pletely at  variance  with  Diderot's  other  utterances  in  which 
feeling  is  set  down  as  essential  to  histrionic  and  general  artistic 
ability  and  effectiveness,  such  as  the  following  from  the  Second 
cntrctien  sur  le  Fils  naturel: 


ACTING    AXn    TRAGEDY  91 

"Heureusement  une  actrice,  d'un  jugement  horiir,  d'une 
penetration  comnuine.  mais  d'une  grande  sensibility,  saisit 
sans  peine  une  situation  d'ame,  et  trouve.  sans  y  penser. 
I'accent  qui  convient  h  plusieurs  sentiments  differents  qui 
se  fondent  ensemble,  et  qui  constituent  cette  situation  que 
toute  la  sagacity  du  pbilosopbe  n'analyserait  pas.  Les  pontes, 
les  acteurs,  les  musiciens.  les  peintres.  les  chanteurs  de  pre- 
mier ordre.  les  grands  danseurs,  les  amants  tendres,  les  vrais 
d#vots,  toute  cette  troupe  enthousiaste  et  passionn^e  sent 
vivement.   et   reflechit   peu"    (vii,   108). 

Likewise,  in  Dc  la  Pocsic  draiiiatiiiue: 

"Acteurs.  jouissez  done  de  vos  droits;  faites  ce  que  le 
moment  et  votre  talent  vous  inspireront.  Si  vous  etes  de 
chair,  si  vous  avez  des  entrailles,  tout  ira  bien,  sans  que  je 
m'en  niele;  et  j'aurai  beau  m'en  meler,  tout  ira  mal  si  vous 
etes  de  marbre  ou  de  bois"    (vii,   386). 

Similar  in  purport  is  the  following  passage  from  the   i'^ncyclo- 
pedia  article  on  "Genius" : 

"Dans  la  chaleur  de  I'enthousiasme  il  [/.  c.  genius]  ne 
dispose  ni  de  la  nature,  ni  de  la  suite  des  idees;  il  est  trans- 
ports dans  la  situation  des  personnages  qu'il  fait  agir;  il 
a  pris  leur  caractere;  s'il  eprouve  dans  le  plus  haut  degr6 
les  passions  beroiques. .  .il  produit  le  sublime"  (xv,  36,  art. 
Genie."  1757). 

Whereas  in  the  Paradoxc  the  man  of  genius,  whether 
player  or  artist  of  another  kind,  is  compared  to  a  "perfect 
mirror"  which,  itself  untroubled,  faithfully  reflects  the  nature 
of  things,  we  learn  from  the  o])ening  pages  of  the  Second  cntre- 
ticn  that  "if  there  is  no  enthusiasm,  the  true  idea  either  fails 
to  appear,  or  if  it  perchance  be  hit  upon,  cannot  be  pursued."' 

This  enthusiastic  spell  is,  moreover,  the  very  antithesis  of 
the  condition  of  cold,  tranquil  lucidity  that  precedes  artistic 
creation,  according  to  the  Paradoxc  sur  Ic  comedien.  The 
physiological  effects  of  "enthusiasm"  as  conceived  in  1757  com- 
prise a  feeling  of  heat  accompanied  by  hallucinations;  the  poet's 
only  outlet  of  relief  is  through  "a  torrent  of  ideas  that  press, 

'  vii,  103. 


92  DIDEROT'S   ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

shock  and  pursue  one  another."  The  trance  once  passed,  the 
memory  of  it  is  lost.  We  read  in  the  Second  eiitretien  that 
Dorval  who  had  experienced  such  a  state  of  exaltation  "asked 
like  a  man  who  awakes  from  slumber :  'What  did  I  say  ?  What 
was  I  to  talk  about?     I  no  longer  remember.'"^ 

These  details  are  not  without  importance,  as  they  left  cer- 
tain traces  in  the  Paradox.  For,  curiously  enough,  Diderot  occa- 
sionally associates  pathological  concomitants  with  artistic  en- 
deavor in  those  pages  of  the  last  named  work  in  which  he 
forgets  to  revise  his  older  theory  of  the  nature  of  enthusiasm. 

In  the  same  spirit,  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  Dc  la  Pocsie 
dramatique  teaches  concerning  "genius,"  "enthusiasm"  or  "in- 
spiration" that  it  is  fitful,  not  abiding,  as  represented  in  the 
Paradoxe : 

"Nous  ne  confondrons,  ni  vous,  ni  moi,  I'homme  qui  vit, 
pense,  agit  et  se  meut  au  milieu  des  autres;  et  I'liomme 
enthousiaste  qui  prend  la  plume,  I'archet,  le  pinceau,  ou  qui 
monte  sur  ses  treteaux.  Hors  de  lui,  il  est  tout  ce  qu'il  plait 
a  I'art  qui  le  domine.  Mais  I'instant  de  I'inspiration  passe, 
il  rentre  et  redevient  ce  qu'il  etait;  quelquefois  un  homme 
commun.  Car  telle  est  la  difference  de  I'esprit  et  du  genie, 
que  I'un  est  presque  toujours  present,  et  que  souvent  I'autre 
s'absente"   (vii,  363). 

A  survey  of  the  writings  of  Diderot  in  chronological  order 
reveals  the  fact  that  he  was  only  gradually  won  to  the  anti- 
emotionalist  point  of  view.  We  need  not  tarry  over  the  epistles 
to  Mme  Riccoboni  on  acting  (1758),  because  they  are  too 
ambiguously  worded  to  shed  light  on  the  subject  we  are  inves- 
tigating. (This  holds  true  even  of  an  observation  found  therein 
concerning  the  histrionic  ability  of  Garrick.)^  But  the  letters 
which  Diderot  wrote  to  an  insignificant  actress,  Mile  Jodin, 
are  much  more  instructive.     In  the  first,  dated  August  27,  1765, 

^  Cf.  the  trance  of  Rameau's  nephew  in  le  'Neveu  de  Rameau 
(written  in  1762,  revised  in  1773;  v,  437).  It  is  interesting  to 
compare  these  with  the  "delire"  of  Rousseau  as  described  in  his 
letter  to  President  de  Malesherbes,  Jan.  12,  1762. 

3  vii,  402. 


ACTING    AINTD   TRAGEDY  93 

we    find    these    significant    words    concorniniL:;    the    i)rocess    of 
"alienation"  whereby  an  actor  loses  his   identity   in  his   role: 

"Je  vous  ai  pen  entendue,  niais  j'ai  cru  vous  reconnattro 
une  graude  qualite  qu'on  peut  simuler  peut-etre  i\  force  d'art 
et  d'^tude,  mais  qui  ne  s'acquiert  pas:  une  ame  qui  s'aliSne, 
qui  s'affecte  profond^nnent,  qui  se  transporte  sur  les  lieux, 
qui  est  telle  on  telle,  qui  voit  et  qui  parle  a  tel  ou  tel  per- 
sonnage.  J'ai  6te  satisfait  lorsque  au  sortir  d'un  mouvemcnt 
violent,  votis  jiarai^siez  7'evenir  de  fort  loin  et  reconnaitre 
()  peine  I'endroit  d'oil  vous  n'etiez  pas  sortie  et  les  objets  qui 
vous  environnaient"   (xix,  382). 

The  words  now  italicised  show  that  Diderot  still  believed 
in  the  enthusiastic  trance,  even  after  he  had  become  acquainted 
with  Garrick,  that  is  to  say, after  the  circumstance  in  which 
certain  scholars  have  perceived  the  occasion  for  Diderot's  sud- 
denly embracing  his  "paradox."  Diderot's  advice  in  a  subse- 
quent letter,  "Je  suis  bien  aise  de  voir  que  votre  ame  a  conserve 
sa  soisibilitc  ct  son  honnctctc," "  may  or  may  not  be  significant, 
as  well  as  the  words  of  caution  in  another:  ".Menagez  votre 
sensibilite,  ne  vous  livrez  que  par  gradation."*  But  that  Diderot 
was  not  at  that  time  (about  1766)  a  sheer  intellectualist,  in  spite 
of  the  recommendation  "que  votre  tete  devienne  mi  portefeuille 
d'images,"  is  apparent,  because  he  also  wrote:  "Quand  Tame 
inspire,  on  ne  sait  jamais  ce  qu'on  fera,  comment  on  dira.  C'est 
le  moment,  la  situation  de  I'ame  qui  dicte,  voila  les  seuls  bons 
maitres,  les  seuls  bons  souffleurs"' — a  belief  that  is  contra- 
dicted in  the  Paradoxc. 

From  these  and  similar  utterances'  it  is  evident  that  about 
1767  Diderot  prescribed  that  the  balance  be  struck  between 
feeling  and  judgment,  his  views  being  thus  summed  up  by 
himself: 

"Un  acteur  qui  n'a  que  du  sens  et  du  jugement  est  froid: 
celui    qui    n'a   que    de    la    verve    et    de    la   sensibilite    est    fou. 

*  Contra.  R.  L.  Cru,  Diderot  (New  York.  1913),  p.  330;  F.  A. 
Hedgcock,  Grrriek  et  ses  aviis  (Paris.  1911),  p.  174;  F.  Balden- 
sperger,   in  Rente  d'hisf.   Utter.,  xx    (1913),   p.   451. 

=  xix,  385;   cf.  xix,  461. 

"xix,  388.  'xix,  390. 

*Cf.  also  X,  234   (Rrfl.  s.   Ti'-rence,  1762). 


94  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

C'est  iin  certain  temperament  de  bon  sens  et  de  chaleur  qui 
fait  riiomme  sublime;  et  sur  la  scene  et  dans  le  monde  celui 
qui  montre  plus  qu'il  ne  sent  fait  rire  au  lieu  de  toucher. 
Ne  cherchez  done  jamais  a  aller  au  dela  du  sentiment  que 
vous  aurez;   tachez  de  le  rendre  juste"   (xix,  3S9). 

The  same  result  is  yielded  by  the  study  of  the  Salons^  and 
especially  of  that  of  1767  containing  the  theory  of  idealism  to 
which  Diderot  proclaimed  his  adherence  in  the  Paradoxc.  There, 
in  the  course  of  a  conversation  between  Garrick  and  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Chastellux,  the  English  actor  is  made  to  say  that  he 
played  after  an  ideal  model.  It  is  impossible,  however,  to  agree 
with  those  critics  who  read  into  this  a  profession  of  anti-emo- 
tionalism. Not  only  does  Garrick  confess  to  strong  feelings  in 
the  very  passage  in  question;  not  only  did  the  Salon  of  1765 
say  that  Garrick  was  a  master  not  so  much  of  his  expression 
as  of  his  soul,  the  emotion  of  which  "disposed  of  his  body;"'" 
but  in  the  same  Salon  of  1767  one  finds  ample  proof  that  Dide- 
rot had  not  broken  with  emotionalism."  The  secret  of  an  artist's 
appeal,  he  said  (and  his  mentioning  Le  Couvreur  is  proof  that 
this  applies  to  actors),  resided  in  ability  to  unite  emotion  and 
esthetic   considerations. 

[Dirlerot] —       ..."On  a  dit: 

....  Si   vis   me   flere,   dolendum   est 
Primum   ipsi   tibi.  .  . 
Mais  tu  pleureras  tout  seul,  sans  que  je  sois  tente  de  meler 
une    larme    aux    tiennes,    si    je    ne    puis    me    substituer    a    ta 
place:     il   faut   que   je   m'aocroche   a   I'extremite    de    !a   corde 
qui   te   tient   suspendu   dans   les   airs,   ou  je   ne   fremirai   pas. 

[L'abbc]   —  Ah!    j'entends  a  present. 

—  Quoi,   I'abbe? 

—  Je  fais  deux  roles,  je  suis  double;  je  euis  Le 
Couvreur  et  je  reste  moi.  C'est  le  moi  le  Couvreur  qui  fre- 
mit  et  qui  souffre,  et  c'est  le  moi  tout  court  qui  a  du  plaisir. 

—  Fort  bien,  I'abbe;   et  voila  la  limite  de  I'imita- 
teur  de  la  nature.     Si  je  m'oublie  trop  et  trop  longtemps,  la 

"  Cf.  X    312,  490,  520   (Salon  de  1765  and  Essai  sur   la  peinture). 

'"  X,    42.5.      This    after    Diderot    had    become    acquainted    with    the 
English   actor. 

"  xi,  35,  125,  152,  146,  208.    Sed  contra  xi,  151. 


ACTING    AND   TIIAGEDY  Or, 

terroiir  est  Irop  lorte;  si  je  no  in'oublio  point  du  lout,  si  je 
reste  toujours  un.  elle  est  trop  faible;  c'est  ce  juste  tempt^ra- 
ment   (lui    fait    verser  des  larnies  d^licieuses"    (xi.   11!)    f.) 

Xot  uiiiil  we  re.ul  in  the  Rcvc  dc  d'.llonbcrt  (1769)  that 
"la  sensibihte.  .  .est  hi  (.|ualite  doininante  des  etres  mediocrcs"" 
do  we  find  something  api)roaching  the  "paradox."  Although 
Diderot  denounces  in  that  work  morbid  "sensibility"  alone  (just 
as  he  had  done  some  twenty  years  earlier  in  the  Lettrc  siir  les 
soiirds)"  yet  the  following  characterization  of  "la  scusibilitc" 
is  so  fraught  with  notions  that  are  closely  parallelled  in  the 
Obscrz'ations  and  I'aradoxe  as  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt  that 
Diderot  wanted  only  the  provocation  of  Sticotti,  absurdly 
"emotionalist"  at  times,  to  defend  the  intellectualist  ]K)int  of 
view. 

"Qu'est-ce  qu'un  etre  sensible?  Un  etre  abandonne  a  la 
discretion  du  diaphragme.  Un  mot  touchant  a-t-il  frappe 
I'oreille,  un  phenomene  singulier  a-t-il  frappe  I'ceil,  et  voila 
tout  a  coup  le  tumulte  interieur  qui  s'elgve,  tons  les  brins 
du  faisceau  qui  s'agitent,  le  frisson  qui  se  repand,  rhorreur 
qui  saisit,  les  larmes  qui  coulent,  les  soupirs  qui  suffoquent, 
la  voix  qui  s'interrompt,  I'origine  du  faisceau  qui  ne  sail  ce 
qu'il  devient;  plus  de  sang  froid,  plus  de  raison,  plus  de  juge- 
ment,  plus  d'instinct,  plus  de  ressource. .  .  Le  grand  homrae, 
s'il  a  malheureusement  recu  cette  disposition  naturelle  s'oc- 
cupera  sans  relache  a  I'affaiblir,  a  la  dominer,  a  se  rendre 
maitre  de  ses  mouvements  et  a  conserver  a  I'origine  du  fais- 
ceau tout  son  empire.  Alors  il  se  possedera  au  milieu  des 
plus  grands  dangers,  il  jugera  froidement,  niais  sainement. 
Rien  de  ce  qui  peut  servir  a  ses  vues,  concourir  a  son  but 
ne  lui  echappera;  on  I'etonnera  difficilement;  il  aura  qua- 
rante-cinq  ans;  il  sera  g.and  rci,  grand  ministre,  grand 
artiste,  surtout  grand  comedien,  grand  philosophe,  grand 
poete,  grand  musicien.  grand  medecin;  il  regnera  sur  lui- 
meme  et  sur  tout  ce  qui   renvironne"    (ii,   171;    cf.   vii,   394). 

Diderot  does  not  contradict  himself  when  he  sums  uj)  this 
eulog}^  of  the  Encyclopedist  in  art  (anfl  politics)  in  these 
words :    "Les  etres   sensibles  ou   les    fous   sont   en    scene,   il   est 

'Mi,  ITU.  "1,  408. 


96  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC   NATURALISM 

au  parterre ;  c'est  lui  qui  est  le  sage."  True,  in  the  Paradoxe, 

the  positions  of  the  wise  man  and  the  fool  are  reversed.     But 

the  actor  after  Diderot's  heart  remains  a  spectator  even  on  the 
stage. 


III 

THE    "PARADOX"    IS    WHAT    THE    TERM    IMPLIES.      DIDEROT 

WAS     A     MODERATE      "OBJECTIVIST"      WHO     EXTENDED      TO 

ACTING  THE   THEORY   OF  IMITATION 

That  Diderot's  real  opinion  struck  a  balance  between  ex- 
treme emotionalism  and  thoroughgoing  intellectualism,  is  as 
certain  as  the  fact  that  he  professed  those  opposite  beliefs  at 
two  distinct  periods  of  his  literary  career.  Yet  in  spite  of 
his  vehement  assertion,  Diderot  never  quite  believed  that  an 
actor  who  feels  is  lost.  This  is  established  not  only  by  the  less 
"paradoxical"  character  of  his  utterances  outside  of  the  two 
essays  on  acting,  even  after  1770;'  but  also  by  the  admissions 
and  commissions  of  the  Paradoxe  itself.  Confining  our  attention 
to  the  latter  and  the  Observations  siir  Garrick,  we  may  briefly 
notice  a  few  vestiges  of  Diderot's  old  way  of  thinking.  For 
instance,  in  the  Observations,  "la  sensibilite"  figures  among 
the  natural  prerequisites  of  good  acting,  a  proposition  inad- 
vertently borrowed  from  Sticotti,  but  which  invalidates  Diderot's 
thesis.  While  this  error  was  corrected  in  the  Paradoxe,  other 
inconsistencies  were  not  removed.  Thus,  the  anti-emotionalist 
efforts  of  Diderot  were  frustrated  when  he  wrote : 

"II  n'en  est  pas  de  la  Dumesnil  ainsi  que  de  la  Clairon. 
Elle  monte  sur  les  planches  sans  savoir  ce  qu'elle  dira;  la 
moitie  du  temps  elle  ne  salt  ce  qu'elle  dit,  mais  11  vient  un 
moment  sublime.  Et  pourquoi  I'acteur  differeralt-il  du  pein- 
tre,  de  I'orateur,  du  musicien?  Ce  n'est  pas  dans  la  fureur  du 
premier  jet  que  les  traits  caracteristiques  se  presentent,  c'est 
dans   des   moments   tranquilles   et   froids,    dans    des    moments 

W,  250  (Observ.  stir  les  Saisons,  1769);  xi,  409  (Salon  de  1769); 
xii,  398  (Leqons  de  clavecin.  1771);  ii,  254  (8ii,r  les  femmes,  1772); 
ii,  332,  342  (Rcfut.  d'Helv&tins.  1773-74);  xii,  88  (Pensves  di'tachees, 
1776-80). 


ACTING    AND   TRAGEDY  i»7 

tout  h  fait  inattendus.  On  ne  sait  d'ovi  ces  traits  viennent;  lis 
tiennent  de  I'inspiration.  C'est  lorsquo.  suspondus  entre  la  na- 
ture et  leur  <M)auc'he,  ces  g^nies  portent  alternativenient  un 
ceil  attentif  sur  I'une  et  I'autre;  les  beaut^s  d'nspiration, 
les  traits  fortuits  qu'ils  r^pandent  dans  leurs  ouvrages,  et 
dont  I'apparition  subite  les  etonno  eux-memes,  sont  d'un  effet 
et  d'un  succ^s  bien  autrenient  assures  que  ce  qu'ils  y  ont 
jet^  de  boutade.  C'est  au  sang-froid  k  temperer  le  delire  de 
renthousiasme"    (viii,   3G7). 

Diderot  forgot,  it  seems,  tliat  in  tlie  Paradoxe  he  had  also 
declared  that  genius  is  not  subject  to  fluctuations.  The  "alto- 
gether unexpected"  "cold  and  tranquil  moments"  which  "par- 
take of  inspiration"  are  no  less  fitful  than  the  enthusiastic 
spells  of  the  Entrcticns  avcc  Dorval.  Nor  is  this  all.  Diderot 
speaks  of  Mile  Clairon  as  being  "double,"  at  once  herself  and 
the  tragic  personage,  thus  contradicting  one  of  the  mainstays 
of  the  "paradox,"  the  indivisibility  of  consciousness.  In  fact, 
in  the  above  passage,  Diderot  lapsed  to  the  standpoint  of  the 
Salon  of  1767,  according  to  which  an  actor  might  be  quite 
moved  and  yet  able  to  remember  his  lines  and  watch  his  expres- 
sion and  "business." " 

Still  further  incongruities  come  to  light  if  the  Paradoxe 
is  compared  with  the  Observations  which  preceded  it.  The  "rup- 
tures de  raisonnement,"  "deviations  de  la  pensee,"  "bizarreries," 
and  even  "non-sens"^  disclosed  in  the  Paradoxe  as  a  result  of 
such  a  comparison,  added  to  the  fact  that,  despite  its  increase 
in  size,  the  last  named  work  contains  but  few  "idees  nouvelles, 
i'entends  d'idees  interessant  le  vrai  sujet,"  have  led  M.  Ernest 
Dupuy  to  ascribe  to  Xaigeon  and  not  to  Diderot  the  elaboration 
of  the  earlier  paper  into  the  Paradoxe.  Unfortunately  for 
M.  Dupuy's  hypothesis,  M.  I'edier  has  shown  that  it  is  paleo- 
graphically  untenable.*  It  could  also  be  easily  shown  that  the 
other  argument  on  which  M.  Dupuy's  thesis  rests,  i.  e.,  the 
assumption  that   Diderot,  an  improvisator  par  excellence  could 

-  The  Abbe  Morellet  would  have  hailed  Diderot's  "paradox"  as 
a  "paradoxe  de  contradiction".  (Throrie  du  paradoxe,  Amsterdam, 
1775.  p.  97   f.) 

'Paradoxe.  ed.   Dupuy    (Paris  1902),  p.  xiv. 

*J.  Bedier,  Etudes  eritiqucs   (Paris,  1903).  pp.  83-112. 


98  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

not  repeat  himself  as  he  obviously  does  in  the  Paradoxc,  is  a 
supposition  contradicted  by  everything  Diderot  wrote,  as  well 
as  by  his  own  statement  as  to  his  method  of  working.  Diderot 
is  one  of  the  authors  who  most  often  repeat  themselves/  Yet 
M.  Dupuy's  observations  concerning  the  want  of  logic  in  the 
Paradoxc  are  incontrovertible."  The  inferiority  of  that  work  to 
the  Observations  might  be  explained,  however,  on  the  hypo- 
thesis that  it  is  due  to  Diderot's  anxiety  to  pass  off  as  true 
what  he  was  not  profoundly  convinced  of. 

Fortunately,  there  is  no  need  to  pursue  this  indirect  demon- 
stration, as  Diderot  himself  framed  a  definition  of  "sensi- 
bility"  which   limits  considerably   the   scope   of   the   "paradox." 

"Ce  serait  un  singulier  abus  des  mots  [writes  he]  que 
d'appeler  sensibilite  cette  facilite  de  rendre  toutes  natures, 
meme  les  natures  feroces.  La  sensibilite,  selon  la  seule 
acception  qu'on  ait  donnee  jusqu'a  present  a  ce  terme,  est,  ce 
me  semble,  cette  disposition  compagne  de  la  faiblesse  des 
organes,  suite  de  la  mobilite  du  diaphragme,  de  la  vivacite 
de  I'imagination,  de  la  delicatesse  des  nerfs,  qui  incline  a 
compatir,  a  frissonner,  a  admirer,  a  craindre,  a  se  troubler, 
a  pleurer.  a  s'evanouir,  a  secourir,  a  fuir,  a  crier,  a  perdre 
la  raison,  a  exagerer,  a  mepriser,  a  dedaigner,  a  n'avoir 
aucune  idee  precise  du  vrai,  du  bon  et  du  beau,  a  etre  in- 
juste,  a  etre  fou"  (viii,  393;  cf.  ii,  171). 

This  definition  of  "la  sensibilite"  m.ust  be  taken  in  con- 
junction with  that  of  "I'honime  sensible,"  in  a  passage  which 
recalls  that  already  reproduced  from  the  Rezr  de  d'Aleinbert: 

"L'homme  sensible  est  trop  abandonne  a  la  merci  de  son 
diaphragme  pour  etre  un  grand  roi,  un  grand  politique,  un 
grand  magistral,  un  homme  juste,  un  profond  observateur,  et 
consequemment  un  sublime  imitateur  de  la  nature,  a  moins 
qu'il  ne  puisse  s'oublier  et  se  distraire  de  lui-meme,  et  qu'a 
I'aide  d'une  imagination  forte  il  ne  sache  se  creer,  et  d'une 
memoire  tenace  tenir  son  attention  fixee  sur  des  fantomes 
qui  lui  servent  de  modeles;  mais  alors  ce  n'est  plus  lui  qui 
agit,  c'est  I'esprit  d'un  autre  qui   le  domine"    (viii,   408). 

'  M.  Tourneux,  Diderot  et  Catherine  II  (Paris,  1899),  p.  448  f. 
Of.  his  paper  in  Revue  d'hist.  litter.,  ix   (1902),  p.  512  f. 

'  Cf.  also  A.  Binet,  "Reflexions  sur  le  paradoxe  de  Diderot"  in 
rAnn<^e  psychologique,  iii    (1897),  p.  279   f. 


ACTING    AND    TRAGEDY  99 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  these  cardinal  definitions  i)ull  down  the 
elaborate  structure  built  by  Diderot  in  defense  of  his  "paradox." 
If  "rho)nme  sensible"  is  a  whimsical,  uneven  being,  always 
engrossed  in  his  present  emotion,  never  able  to  work  for  a  defi- 
nite end,  if  he  is  fatally  condemned  "a  etre  fou,"  he  will  be 
good  for  nothing,  as  his  definition  provides,  and  as  little  fitted 
for  an  actor's  career  as  for  any  other.  So  tliat  we  may  ask 
with  Mr.  William  .Vrcher,  Where  is  the  paradox?'  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  "la  scusibiUtc"  ni'ay  be  checked  by  an  effort  of  the 
"imagination,"  as  is  implied  in  the  paragraph  last  cjuoted, 
Diderot's  artistic  psycholog}-  is  not  contrary  to  that  of 
most  of  his  predecessors  and  contemporaries — the  elder  Ricco- 
boni,  Sainte-Albine,  tlill,  Sticotti,  and  others — who  admitted 
the  necessity  of  an  actor's  combining  "reason"  or  "judgment" 
with  "sensibility"  or  "cntrailles,"  even  though  they  also  hked 
to  descant  on  the  histrionic  marvels  wrought  by  feeling.' 

If  Diderot  had  been  minded  to  defend  his  paradox  to  the 
last,  he  should  have  expressly  recanted  his  earlier  belief  that 
"le  technique  c'est  la  mort  du  genie,"  or  at  least  have  refuted 
Grimm's  reasons  for  regarding  genius  as  something  that  defies 
analysis.  Instead,''  we  see  him  resorting  to  the  proposition 
which  (irimm  liad  declared  irrele\ant,  that  mimetic  talent  and 
moral  character  are  correlated,  v.hich  comes  very  near  the 
view  he'd  bv  Diderot  in  his  "emotionalist"  period,  that  the 
esthetic  and  moral  senses  are  correlated.  Again,  Diderot  says 
that,  when  inspired,  it  is  not  the  actor  himself  who  performs 
his  part,  but  the  mind  of  another  using  the  player  as  a  puppet, 
as  if  this   were   incompatible  with   the  concept   of   "alienation" 

'W.  Archer,  Masks  or  facesf     (London,  1888),  p.  36. 

'  A  very  few  held  that  exaggerated  physical  sensibility  might 
prove  embarrassing,  notably  Franqois  Riccoboni,  L'Art  du  thrOtrc 
(17.50)  p.  1.5.  Cf.  the  speech  of  Macklin  mentioned  in  the  Saint 
Jnmrs'  Chronicle.  Nov.  6,  1773,  alluded  to  by  Diderot,  viii.  422. 
Similar  ideas  of  Goethe  in  Wilheljyi  Meistcr  were  inspired  by  Diderot, 
according  to  C.  A.  Eggert,  in  Modern  Language  Notes,  1896,  col. 
205  ff. 

°  viii,  359.  Diderot  once  acknowledges  that  genius  is  irreducible 
(iv,  26  f.) 

'"viii,  358  f.     Cf.  vii,  389. 


100  DIDEROT'S  ESTHETIC  NATURALISM 

he  had  made  the  most  of  in  his  "emotionahst"  days."  To  make 
a  bad  matter  worse,  he  expUcitly  concedes  that  as  a  rule  the 
cold  and  tranqttil  instants  of  inspiration  are  preceded  by  emo- 
tional states : 

"Est-ce  au  moment  ou  vous  venez  de  perdre  votre  ami 
ou  votre  maitresse  que  vous  composerez  un  poeme  sur  sa 
mort?  Non,  malheur  k  celui  qui  jouit  alors  de  son  talent! 
C'est  lorsque  la  grande  douleur  est  passee,  quand  I'extreme 
sensibilite  est  amortie   (viii,  386). 

"Je  ne  doute  point  que  la  Clairon  n'eprouve  le  tourment 
du  Quesnoy  dans  ses  premieres  tentatives;  mais  la  lutte 
passee,  lursqu'elle  s'est  une  fois  elevee  a  la  hauteur  de  son 
fantome,  elle  se  possede,  elle  se  repete  sans  emotion"  (viii, 
366;   cf.  vii,  346,  103  and  xi,  144  f.) 

But  this,  pace  Diderot,  is  but  the  theory  of  "reasonable 
enthusiasm,"  the  "inspiration  reflechie"  applied  to  acting,  which, 
far  from  being  paradoxical,  was  public  property  from  the  time 
of  Castelvetro.'^ 

It  is  not  surprising,  then,  that  Diderot  all  but  gave  up  his 
"paradox"  when  he  intimated  that  the  faculty  of  "sentir"  is  a 
mode  not  of  "sensibility"  but  of  "judgment,"  which  is  but 
another  way  of  saying  that  intellect  does  not  necessarily  exclude 
emotion."  It  would  appear  from  the  following  paragraph  that 
Diderot  acknowledged  that  he  intended,  not  to  proscribe  feeling 
altogether  but  to  establish  its  sufficiency  as  a  sole  guide  to 
artistic  production. 

"C'est  qu'etre  sensible  est  une  chose,  et  sentir  est  une 
autre;  I'une  est  une  affaire  d'ame,  I'autre  une  affaire  de 
jugement.  C'est  qu'on  sent  avec  force  et  que  I'on  ne  saurait 
rendre;    c'est  qu'on   rend,   seul,  en  societe,  au  coin   du   foyer, 

"  vii,  404.  He  elsewhere  (vi,  456)  speaks  of  an  "enthousiasme 
qui  aliene  I'homme  de  lui  m§me  et  le  rend  impassible,  rare  parmi 
nous  [mais]  commun  chez  le  sauvage." 

''Cf.  vi,  412  (Reflexion  sur  I'ode.  1770);  Shaftesbury,  Letter' 
concerning  enthusiasm  (1708);  Marmontel,  Poetique  franqaise  (1763) 
i,  69,  73  and  the  authors  cited  by  Mornet  in  Revue  cl'Hist.  lift.,  xxi 
(1914),  p.  608-614. 

'"  DidpT-ot's  belief  in  somatic  and  psychic  interaction  and  paral- 
lelism (viii,  370,  349;  xi,  145  f.  etc.)  favored  an  intermediate  position 
between  intellectualism  and  emotionalism. 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  101 

en  lisant,  en  jouant  pour  quelques  auditeurs,  et  qu'on  ne 
rend  rien  qui  vaille  au  theatre;  c'est  qu'au  theatre  avec  ce 
qu'on  appelle  de  la  sensibility,  de  Tame,  des  entrailles,  on 
rend  bien  une  ou  deux  tirades  et  qu'on  manque  le  teste; 
c'est  qu'embrasser  toute  I'^tendue  d'un  grand  r61e....et  se 
former  un  syst&me  soutenu  de  declamation  qui  aille  jusqu'k 
sauver  les  boutades  du  poSte,  c'est  I'ouvrage  d'une  tete 
froide,  d'un  profond  jugement,  d'un  goQt  exquis,  d'une  etude 
p^nible,  d'une  longue  experience  et  d'une  tenacity  de  memoire 
peu  commune...."   (viii,  415  f.) 

Here  it  is  evident  that  by  the  word  "sentir"  Diderot  des- 
ignates the  function  which  is  named  "sensibilitc"  in  his  Treatise 
of  Physiolog}-,  where  it  is  defined  as  a  "quaHte  propre  a  I'ani- 
mal  qui  I'avertit  des  rapports  qui  sont  entre  lui  et  tout  ce  qui 
I'environne."  "  Practically  identical  is  the  definition  contained 
in  a  letter  to  Mile  X'olland,  dated  October  ii,  1760:  "Qu'est-ce 
que  la  sensibilite?  L'effet  vif  sur  notre  ame  d'une  infinite 
d'observations  delicates  que  nous  rapprochons.  Cette  qualite, 
donl  la  nature  nous  donne  le  germe,  s'etouffe  ou  se  vivifie  done 
par  lage,  I'experience,  la  reflexion.""  Sensibility  is,  in  this 
sense,  the  faculty  by  which  man  enters  en  rapport  with  his 
environment  and,  in  specie,  the  player  adjusts  his  acting  to  the 
system  of  declamation  and  conventions  of  the  drama;'"  just  the 
opposite  of   "la  sensibilite"  as  understood  in  the  Paradoxe. 

This  sort  of  "sensibilite"  that  is  not  harmful  to  artistic 
endeavors  is  quite  incompatible  with  the  propensity  which  leads 
an  actor  to  "ranting;"  but,  once  more,  it  is  not  a  faculty  that 
excludes  or  inhibits  emotion  as  such.''  It  appears  to  include 
all  the  psychic  processes  that  are  vulgarly  designated  as  "feel- 
ings," i.  e.,  both  perceptive  and  affective  phenomena.  Its 
esthetic  eficacy  is  due  to  its  association  in  Diderot's  ])sycho- 
physiolog}'  with  the  "imagination,"  the  esthetic  function  par 
excellence,  which  rouses  ideas  and  feelings  and  quickens  them 
bv  their  interplav.  The  Pensces  dctachces  sur  la  peintnre,  la 
sculpture,  V architecture  et  la  poesie'"  give  unambiguous  expres- 

»  ix,  267.  '•  xix,  26.  '"  Cf.  ii.  114. 

"Cf.  art.  "Ginie"  xv,  35   f. 

"  Put  together  in  1776  at  the  earliest. 


102  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

sion  to  this  dualistic  conception  of  the  act  of  artistic  creation: 
"II  y  a  deux  sortes  d'enthousiasme,  I'enthousiasme  de  Tame  et 
celui  du  metier.  Sans  I'un  le  concept  est  froid,  sans  I'autre 
I'execution  est  faible,  c'est  leur  union  qui  rend  I'ouvrage  su- 
blime." "  The  "jugement"  which  is  also  "scntir"  is  the  natural 
ally  of  these  two  sorts  of  enthusiasm  and  identical  with  the 
"imaginative  sympathy"  of  the  moderate  emotionalist,  the 
"Paradox"  notwithstanding. 

Had  not  enough  already  been  said,  we  might  show  in 
the  avowedly  "emotionalist"  writings  of  Diderot  the  seeds  from 
which,  given  time  and  provocative  circumstances,  the  "paradox" 
derived  its  being.  Such  an  undertaking  would  merely  illustrate 
what  has  been  long  apparent,  that  the  mind  of  Diderot  was  in 
a  state  of  flux.^"  Yet  he  has  disarmed  the  criticism  of  the 
stickler  for  consistency  by  a  candid  confession :  "J'ai  prononce 
la-dessus  autrefois  un  peu  legerement,"  (thus  apropos  of 
another  order  of  ideas;)  "a  tout  moment  je  donne  dans  I'er- 
reur.  . .  J'abandonne  une  these  faute  de  mots  qui  rendent 
bien  mes  raisons.  J'ai  au  fond  de  mon  coeur  une  chose  et  j'en 
dis  une  autre."  "  Diderot's  thought  oozed  out  of  the  network 
of  logical  categories  because  it  was  as  fluid  and  complex  as 
Nature  itself,  and  because  all  he  said  was  uttered  with  a  view 
to  action.  It  is  not  fair  to  condemn  as  contradiction  that  which, 
viewed  historically  and  pragmatically,  is  a  synthesis  of  opposite 
elements. 

IV 

IDEO-REALISTIC  IMPLICATIONS  OF  THE  "PARADOXE". 
PERFECT  ACTING  POSSIBLE  ONLY  IN  THE  REGENERATED 
THEATRE  OF  THE  FUTURE.  THE  "SYSTEM  OF  NATURE" 
POSTULATES  A  NEW  KIND  OF  HISTORICAL  TRAGEDY.  — 
DIDEROT'S  "PARADOX"  EVIDENCE  OF  REACTION  AGAINST 
INCIPIENT    ROMANTICISM 

If    from    the    psychological    aspect    of    the    Paradoxe    the 
reader  pases   to   its  esthetic   implications  he  may  be   struck  by 

"xii,  S8.  Cf.  X.  519  f.,  xi,  409  f.  It  is  worth  noting  in  this  con- 
nection that  the  Salon  of  1767  (xi,  293)  speaks  of  "ce  qu'on  appelle 
tact,  instinct,  esprit  de  la  chose,  gotlt  nature!." 

-"  Cf.  also  the  Symposium  and  Phaedrus  with  the  Laws  and 
Republic.  "^  xi,  179. 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  103 

another  apparent  contradiction.  In  Hiderot's  theoretical  works 
of  1757-58,  he  had  been  most  insistent  on  the  similarity  of  the 
stage  world  and  the  real:  "II  n'y  a  rien  dc  ce  qui  se  passe  dans 
le  monde  qui  ne  puisse  a\oir  lieu  sur  la  scene.""  It  is  there- 
fore surjirising  to  read  in  the  Paradoxc  sur  le  comcdien  that, 
on  the  contrary,  "rien  ne  se  passe  exactement  sur  la  scene 
comme  en  nature,"  and  to  come  across  a  definition  of  theatrical 
truth  like  the   following: 

''Reflechissez  un  moment  sur  ce  qu'on  appelle  au  theatre 
'etre  vrai':  Est-ce  y  montrer  les  choses  comme  elles  sont 
en  nature?  Aucunemeut.  Le  vrai  en  ce  sens  ne  serait  que 
le  comun.  Qu'est-ce  done  le  vrai  de  la  sc6ne?  C'est  la 
conformite  des  actions,  des  discours,  de  la  figure,  de  la  voix, 
du  mouvement,  du  geste,  avec  un  modele  ideal  imagine  par  le 
poete,  et  souvent  exagere  par  le  comedien"  (viii,  373;  cf.  349). 

Of  such  statements  there  are  not  a  few.  They  may  be  supple- 
mented by  others  in  which  Diderot  sems  to  be  won  to  pseudo- 
Classicist  sectarianism  of  la  belle  nature  and  to  bow  to  the 
"proprieties": 

"Les  passions  outrees  sont  presque  toutes  sujettes  k  des 
grimaces  que  I'artiste  sans  goiit  copie  servilement,  mais  que 
le  grand  artiste  evite.  Nous  voulons  qu'au  plus  fort  des 
tourments  I'homme  garde  le  caractere  d'homme,  la  dignite  de 
son  espece.  Quel  est  I'effet  de  cet  effort  heroique?  De  dis- 
traire  de  la  douleur  et  de  la  temperer.  Nous  voulons  que 
cette  femme  tombe  avec  decence,  avec  mollesse,  et  que  ce 
heros  meure  comme  le  gladiateur  ancien,  au  milieu  de  I'argne, 
aux  applaudissements  du  cirque,  avec  grace,  avec  noblesse, 
dans   une   attitude   elegante   et   pittoresque. . . ."  " 

"Poetes,  travaillez-vous  pour  une  nation  delicate,  vapo- 
reuse  et  sensible;  renfermez-vous  dans  les  harmonieuses, 
tendres  et  touchantes  elegies  de  Racine;  elle  se  sauverait  des 
boucheries  de  Shakespeare:  ces  ames  faibles  sont  iucapables 
de  supporter  des  secousses  violentes.  Gardez-vous  bien  de 
leur  presenter  des  images  trop  fortes"   (viii,  393  f.) 

«vii,  378. 

='M-iii.   373.     Cf.   also    Diderot    about    the   Laocoon   group,   x,    422, 
488. 


104  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

To  account  for  this  apparent  discrepancy,  it  has  been  said 
that,  converted  at  last  to  the  tenets  of  artistic  idealism,  to  which 
he  pays  tribute  more  than  once  in  the  Paradoxc  and  the  Salons, 
Diderot  turned  against  all  the  idols  of  his  youth,  including  the 
theatre  bourgeois,  so  that  "ici  encore  Diderot  est  la  contra- 
diction faite  homme."*^ 

But  the  contradiction  is  only  in  appearance.  To  realize 
this,  let  us  begin  with  the  following  bit  of  dialogue  in  the  Para- 
doxe,  which  suggests  that  the  "idealism"  seemingly  recom- 
mended by  Diderot  is  merely  accepted  for  such  artists  as  cannot 
reach  the  sublime  heights  of  naturalism: 

"Vous  voyez  qu'il  n'est  pas  meme  permis  d'imiter  la 
nature,  meme  la  belle  nature,  la  verite  de  trop  pres,  et  qu'il 
est  des  limltes  dans  lesquelles  il  faut  se  renfermer.  —  Et 
ces  limites,  qui  les  a  posees?  —  Le  bon  sens,  qui  ne  veut 
pas  qu'un  talent  nuise  a  un  autre  talent.  II  faut  quelquefois 
que  I'acteur  se  sacrifie  au  poete.  —  Mais  si  la  composition 
du  poete  s'y  pretait?  —  Eh  bien!  vous  auriez  une  autre  sorte 
de  tragedie  tout  a  fait  differente  de  la  votre.  —  Et  quel 
inconvenient  a  cela?  —  Je  ne  sais  pas  trop  ce  que  vous  y 
gagneriez;  mais  je  sais  tres  bien  ce  que  vous  y  perdriez... 
Pour  un  poete  de  genie  qui  atteindrait  a  cette  prodigieuse 
verite  de  Nature,  il  s'eleverait  une  nuee  d'insipides  et  plats 
imitateurs.  II  n'est  pas  permis,  sous  peine  d'etre  insipide, 
maussade,  detestable,  de  descendre  d'une  ligne  au-dessous  de 
la  simplicite  de   Nature"    (viii,   420   f.) 

Yet  other  sayings  of  his  show  that  he  was  far  from  being 
consistently  benevolent  toward  the  "poet"  for  whom  the  actor 
was  sometimes  to  sacrifice  his  talent  and  devotion  to  naturalis- 
tic truth.  The  "altogether  different  tragedy"  of  "prodigious 
truth  to  nature"  whereof  he  speaks  is  undoubtedly  the  one  by 
comparison  to  which  he  had  condemned  that  of  Corneille  and  the 
pseudo-Classicist  tragedy  of  imitation  in  the  Bijoux  indiscrets.'^ 
The  necessity  of  pleading  for  his  own  genre  serieux,  ten  years 

"J.  Reinach,  Diderot  (Paris,  1894),  p.  158.  E.  Newman,  Gluck 
and  the  ojiera.  London,  1895,  p.  251,  note.  Curiously  enough,  F. 
Luitz,  in  the  edition  of  the  Paradoxe  published  in  Bibliotheca  roma- 
nica,  is  inclined  to  trace  to  Lessing    Diderot's  conversion  to  idealism. 

"iv,  285. 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  105 

afterwards,  temporarily  halted  his  onslauj^ht  on  the  fashionable 
tragic  genre.  lUit  wlien  the  Encyclo])edia  had  weathered  .ill 
the  storms  that  threatened  its  existence,  Diderot  had  the  leisure 
to  indulge  in  his  iconoclastic  propensities."  Tn  the  intimacy  of 
the  Salon  of  IJ^^J,  after  stating  that  the  artist  spreads  the  mot- 
ley mantle  of  his  imagination  over  the  canvas  formed  by  the 
"cris  dc  nature,"  i.  c,  the  silent  pauses  and  incoherent  ])hrases 
prompted  by  genuine  emotion  in  real  life,  Diderot  said  that 
the  imagination  of  Racine  was  too  riotous,  that  it  hid  too  much 
of  that  simple  "nature"  which  is  the  backbone  of  art: 

"La  passion  ne  fait  que  des  esquisses.  Que  fait  done  un 
po§te  qui  finit  tout?  II  tourne  le  dos  a  la  nature.  Mais 
Racine?  —  Racine!  A  ce  nom,  je  me  prosterne,  et  je  me 
tais.  II  y  a  un  teclmique  traditionuel,  auquel  I'liomme  de 
g^nie  se  conforme.  Ce  n'est  plus  d'apres  la  nature,  c'est 
d'apres  ce  teclinique  qu'on   le  juge"    (xi,   254). 

The  greatness  of  Racine  is  due  not  to  his  being  true,  but 
to  his  having  been  able  to  retain  so  much  of  truth  amidst  a 
heap  of  conventional  lies.  "I.e  grand  homme  n'est  pas  celui 
qui  fait  vrai,  c'est  celui  qui  sait  le  mieux  concilier  le  men- 
songe  avec  la  verite."  Not  only  is  this  theme  reiterated  in  the 
Observations  and  Paradoxe,  but  Diderot  made  bold  to  say  that, 
when  meted  out  with  the  "precise  measure"  of  nature,  both 
Racine  and  Shakespeare  were  seen  to  l)e  woefully  deficient. 
Xone  of  the  French  critics  of  Racine,"'  not  even  the  German 
disciples  and  students  of  Diderot  (their  name  is  legion,  from 
Lessing  to  Goethe),  dared  to  dispose  of  Racine  in  so  cavalier 
a  fashion  as  this  man  who  in  reality  idolized  him."' 

"Le  premier.  —  .  .  .Croyez-vous  que  les  scenes  de  Corneille 
de  Racine,  de  Voltaire,  meme  de  Shakespeare,  puissent 
se  debiter  avec  votre  voix  de  conversation  et  le  ton  du 
coin  de  votre  atre?  Pas  plus  que  I'hsitoire  du  coin  de 
votre  atre  avec  I'emphase  et  Touverture  de  bouchc  clu 
theatre. 

'"Contra.    Carl     Becker.    "The    dilemna    of    Diderot,"     in     Philos. 
Bevieic.  xxiv   (1915),  pp.  54-71. 

"  La   Motte,    Voltaire,    Rousseau,    Buffon,    Mercier,    etc. 
^'Cf.  ii,  342;   v,  397;   viii,  371. 


106  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

Le  Second.  —  C'est  que  peut-etre  Racine  et  Corneille,  tout 
grands  hommes  qu'ils  etaient,  n'ont  rien   fait  qui  vaille. 

Le  Premier.  —  Quel  blaspheme!  Qui  est-ce  qui  oserait  le 
proferer?     Qui  est-ce  qui  oserait  y  applaudir?"   (viii,  371). 

Despite  Diderot's  precaution  of  putting  into  the  mouth  of 
the  second  interlocutor  the  opinion  of  the  first,  we  are  now 
able  to  appreciate  at  its  true  value  his  seeming  departure  from 
the  gospel  of  realism.  The  actor's  feelings,  he  declared  (and 
here  we  perceive  the  connecting  link  between  the  theory  of 
acting  and  that  of  tragedy),  cannot  possibly  guide  him  in  the 
rendering  of  tragic  parts  because  tragedy,  as  it  obtained  in 
France  in  the  eighteenth  century  had  no  foundation  in  nature. 
Diderot^  saw  in  the  tragic  heroes  mere  "fantomes  imaginaires 
de  la  poesie,"  "des  especes  d'hippogriffes,"  that  would  provoke 
our  mirth  the  minute  they  should  step  off  the  artificial  world 
of  the  stage.  To  ascribe  to  them  the  sentiments  common  to  the 
ordinary  run  of  mortals  meant  to  destroy  the  slender  amount 
of  illusion  which  the  tragic  stage  was  able  to  produce  by  virtue 
of   its  being  consistently   "uicrveUleux" : 

Le  Premier.  —  ....Lorsque,  par  une  longue  habitude  du 
theatre  on  garde  dans  la  societe  Temphase  de  theatre  et 
qu'on  y  promene  Brutus,  Cinna,  Mithridate.  Cornelie,  Me- 
rope,  Pompee,  savez-vous  ce  qu'on  fait?  On  accouple  ^ 
une  ame  petite  ou  grande,  de  la  mesure  precise  que 
Nature  I'a  donnee,  les  signes  exterieurs  d'une  ame  exa- 
geree  et  gigantesque  qu'on  n'a  pas:  et  de  la  nalt  le 
ridicule. 

Le  Second.  —  La  cruelle  satire  que  vous  faites  la,  innocem- 
ment   ou   malignement,   des   acteurs   et   des   auteurs! 

Le  Premier.  —  Comment  cela? 

Le  Second.  —  II  est,  je  crois,  permis  a  tout  le  monde  d'avoir 
une  ame  forte  et  grande:  il  est,  je  crois,  permis  d'avoir 
le  maintien,  le  propos  et  Taction  de  son  ame,  et  je  crois 
que  I'image  de  la  veritable  grandeur  ne  peut  jamais  etre 
ridicule. 

Le  Premier.  —  Que  s'ensuit-il  de  la? 

^  Cf.  Molirre   (Dorante)   in  Critique  de  VEcole  des  femmes,  sc.  6. 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  107 

Le  Second.  —  Ah,  traltre!  vous  n'osez  le  dire,  et  il  faudra 
que  j'encoure  I'indignation  st'in'^rale  pour  vous.  Cast 
que  la  vraie  tragedie  est  encore  ;\  trouver,  et  qu'avec 
leurs  defauts  les  anciens  en  ^taient  peut-etre  plus  voisins 
que   nous"    (viii,   40r>). 

If  "la  vraie  tragedie  est  encore  a  trouver,"  it  follows  that 
Diderot  did  regard  conventionality  not  as  the  norm  of  the 
theatre  but  as  an  abuse  calling  for  reniedv.  And  bv  the  same 
token,  the  definition  of  dramatic  truth,  to  which  appeal  those 
who  see  in  Diderot  a  convert  to  "idealism"  pure  and  simple, 
appears  not  as  an  esthetic  imperative  but  as  a  statement  of 
regrettable  fact.  If  "rien  ne  se  passe  exactment  sur  la  scene 
comme  en  nature,"  it  is  because  the  plays  are  "tons  composes 
d'apres  un  certain  systeme  de  principes,"  and  the  dramatic 
heroes  are  "des  etres  inconnus,"  mere  "caricatures  assujetties 
a  des  regies  de  convention,"  "bouffissures  prescrites"  by  special 
recipes  particular  to  each  country.*"  The  truth  of  nature  might 
be  commonplace  and  squalid  when  badly  "imitated,"  or  else 
might  seem  shabby  when  confronted  with  the  arbitrary  and  ex- 
tra-natural character  of  all  the  extant  "dramatic  systems,"  which 
rest  on  versification,  "poetic"  modes  of  expression  and  ideal- 
ized characterization.^^  If  so,  so  much  the  worse  for  the 
"systems."  In  his  zeal  for  naturalism  Diderot  came  near 
renewing  the  "i)oetic  atheism"  of  the  Cartesians,  being  saved 
from  it  ony  by  its  capacity  to  appreciate  poetry  archeologically, 
so  to  speak.^ 

To  keep  to  our  main  argument,  Diderot  no  more  aband- 
doned  his  realistic  conviction  in  the  Paradoxc  than  he  had  done 
in  Dc  la  Pocsic  dromat'iqiic,  in  which  he  had  avowed  that  "il 
y  a  de  la  difference  entre  le  plaisir  de  theatre  et  le  plaisir  de 
societe."^^  If  there  remain  any  doubt  on  this  head  it  will  be 
dispelled  by  the  following  portion  of  the  Paradoxe,  bearing  on 

~viii,  404. 

^' Cf.  Beaumarchais,  Kami  sur  Ir  (icnre  dram.  (1767),  in  Thnitre 
complet.  ed.  d'Heilly  and  Marescot,  vol.  I.  p.  34. 

^Cf.  the  Corresp.  lift,  of  Feb.  1.5,  1770  (viii,  460  ff.),  in  which 
Diderot  seems  to  have  lent  his  ideas  to  Grimm. 

"vii,  363.  ^ 


108  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

Philoctetes'  admonition  of  Neoptolemus,  as  related  by  Sopho- 
cles, which  conclusively  shows  that  Diderot  meant  to  remain 
faithful  to  "realism": 

"Le  Premier.  —  ...Y  a-t-il  dans  ce  discours  autre  chose  que 
ce  que  vous  adresseriez  a  mon  fils,  que  ce  que  je  dirais 
au  votre? 

Le  Second.  —  Non. 

Le  Premier.  —  Cependant  cela  est  beau. 

Le  Second.   —  Assurement. 

Le  Premier.  —  Et  le  ton  de  ce  discours  prononce  sur  la  scene 

differeralt-il    du    ton    dent    on    le    prononcerait    dans    la 

so'Ciete? 

Le  Second.  —  Je  ne  le  crois  pas. 

Le  Premier.  —  Et  ce  ton  dans  la  societe,  y  serait-il  ridicule? 

Le  Second.  — •  Nullement. 

Le  Premier.  —  Plus  les  actions  sont  fortes  et  les  propos 
simples,  plus  j'admire"    (viii,  406;    cf.   420). 

While  Diderot  felt  the  charm  of  Greek  tragedy  of  simple, 
noble  and  stirring  deeds,  spontaneous  in  its  genial  inspiration 
and  unhampered  by  those  petty  "bienscances"  which  are  the  lot 
of  nations  divided  against  themselves,  he  nevertheless  believed 
that  the  "formule  donnee  par  le  vieil  Eschyle,'"^  that  "protocole 
de  trois  mille  ans,"  was  out  of  keeping  with  modern  ways  of 
thought  and  expression.  Its  recast  by  Racine  and  Voltaire,  the 
system  of  the  Comedie-Franqaise,  Diderot  pronounced  just 
"nothing."  On  the  contrary,^'  no  praise  was  too  lavish  for  the 
"true"  stage  on  which  the  actor,  in  his  capacity  of  "lay  preacher" 
and  representative  of  the  "philosophic  poet,"  would  be  sure  to 
sway  "Ics  homines  dc  nature,"  "les  homines  sensibles,"  by  means 
of  the  representation  of  pathetic  spectacles,  and  to  delight  and 
instruct  "les  tetcs  de  glace"  with  the  faithful  enactment  of  his- 
torical scenes.  On  this  stage  the  actor  could  be  at  once  himself 
and  his  personage  without  fear  of  violating  ridiculous  con- 
ventions and  offending  absurd  proprieties ;  the  good  actor  would 
be  certain  to  please  audiences  in  Paris  as  well  as  in  London  or 

^viii,  372. 

^''viii,  392,  400.    Cf.  vii,  108;   xix,  397. 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  100 

Saint  Petersburg ;°*  no  artificial  specialization  of  histrionic  tal- 
ent would  be  required,  all  the  skill  and  study  of  the  actor  being 
employed  in  the  preservation  of  that  "unite  dc  ton"  from  which 
all  esthetic  blessings  flow.  Even  the  "comcdien  sensible"  might 
show  himself  to  advantage  in  the  scenes  (need  we  say  these 
would  abound  in  the  theatre  of  the  future?)  calling  for  the 
display  of  virtuous  emotions.  Me  or  his  hard-headed  colleagues 
might  occasionally  speak  ex  tempore,"  for  they  would  no  longer 
be  held  to  the  letter  of  the  text.  In  short,  the  new  stage  would 
be  "everything." 

All  told,  far  from  j)rescril)ing  tint  Nature  and  llic  Stage  be 
kept  apart  for  ever,  Diderot  conceived  of  his  "ideal"  and  "imag- 
inary" personages,  the  histrionic  chemons  which  the  actor  was 
to  imitate,  as  anticipations  of  the  very  real  and  natural  beings 
of  a  society  that  would  harbor  no  prejudices  whatsoever." 
We  may  make  use  of  his  own  simile  to  give  a  more  concrete 
formulation  to  this  idea : 

"Mon  ami  [Diderot  wrote  in  the  Paradoxe]  il  y  a  trois 
modeles,  Thomme  de  la  nature,  I'homme  du  po6te,  I'homme 
de  I'acteur.  Celui  de  la  nature  est  moins  grand  que  celui 
du  poete,  et  celui-ci  moins  grand  encore  que  celui  du  grand 
comedien,  le  plus  exagere  de  tous.  Ce  dernier  monte  sur  les 
epaules  du  precedent,  et  se  renferme  dans  un  grand  manne- 
quin d'osier  dont  il  est  I'ame;  il  meut  ce  mannequin  d'une 
maniere  effrayante,  meme  pour  le  poete  qui  ne  se  reconnait 
plus,  et  il  nous  epouvante.  . .  .ainsi  que  les  enfants  s'epouvan- 
tent  les  uns  les  autres  en  tenant  leurs  petits  pourpoints 
courts  eleves  au-dessus  de  leur  tete,  en  s'agitant,  et  en  imi- 
tant  de  leur  mieux  la  voix  rauque  et  lugubre  d'un  fantome 
qu'ils  contrefont"   (viii,  419). 

Diderot  wished  to  relieve  "riiomme  de  nature"  of  this 
double  burden  and  to  have  him  serve  directly  as  "riioninie  du 
comedien." 

»«Cf.  viii,  344,  364.   394.  =•  Cf.  vii,  lO.'). 

^Cf.  also  viii,  390,  where  the  subsistential  reality  of  the  "ideal" 
is  implied. 

-■'viii,  419.  Cf.  Beaumarchais  in  Essai  sur  le  genre  dramaiique 
(1767),  in  TluVitre  complct.  ed.   Heilly-Marescot,   I.  36,  37. 


110  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

It  is  evident  that  the  advent  of  the  natural  stage  was  tanta- 
mount to  a  revolution.  Though  he  does  not  use  the  word  in 
the  Paradoxe,*"  Diderot  believed  inevitable  the  revolution  that 
was  to  usher  the  reign  of  Reason  and  Nature  which  called  for 
the  "true"  theatre  as  its  dramatic  expression.  This  is  the  eso- 
teric meaning  of  the  Paradoxe,  which  is  thus  seen  to  be  the 
esthetic  counterpart  of  the  contemporary  Rcvc  de  d'Alemberl 
and  Supplement  au  Voyage  de  Bougainville,  two  of  the  most 
revolutionary  books  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Diderot  held  that, 
because  it  was  only  partially  adapted  to  its  new  social  milieu, 
the  old  tragedy  was  doomed  to  extinction.'"  Indeed  for  a 
moment  Diderot  thought  himself  the  man  who  was  des- 
tined to  "quarter  the  hippogriff"  of  artistic  conservatism. 
Drunk  with  joy  at  the  success  of  his  Pcre  de  famille  (1769), 
he  relished  the  dubious  compliment  of  Duclos:  "Trois  pieces 
comme  cela  tueront  la  tragedie."  "Ou'ils  se  fassent  a  ces 
emotions-la,"  he  wrote  to  !\llle  Volland,  "et  qu'ils  supportent 
apres  cela  s'ils  peuvent,  Destouches  et  La  Chaussee.""  The 
sequel,  which  included  a  bare  succcs  d'estime  for  his  own  Fils 
naturel  (1771),  may  have  convinced  him  that  his  expectations 
had  been  too  sanguine.  At  any  rate,  we  meet  in  the  latest^' 
additions  to  the  Paradoxe  those  half -ironic  counsels  of  caution 
and  moderation,  like  the  one  we  have  quoted  a  few  pages  above, 
or  his  commendation  for  consistency  of  that  portion  of  the 
public  which  refused  to  sanction  such  a  horror  as  Gabrielle  de 
Vergy's  perceiving  (in  the  play  by  Debelloy)  her  lover's  bleed- 
ing heart  in  the  poison  cup  from  which  she  was  about  to  drink." 
Yet  the  uncertainty  of  public  taste  did  not  chill  the  revolu- 
tionary ardor  of  Diderot,^'  who  held  that  it  was  worse  than 
useless  to  compromise  with  the  prevailing  manifestations  of  art 
because  the  result  of  this  compromise  would  be  an  incongruity. 
It  merely  inspired  him  with   the  determination   to   ecraser  I'in- 

*"  The   word  and   idea  appear,   however,   in   Grimm's   Corresp.   litt. 
(Ill,  357)   in  connection  with  le  Pcre  de  famille   (1757). 

"  Cf.   viii,   372;    also   Mercier,  Du   Theatre,   p.   vii,   viii    (preface). 

"xix.  314,  :^20.  "About  1777.  "viii,  394. 

"  Diderot   thought  himself  infallible   as  an   esthetic   prophet.    (Cf. 
xix,  475,  Dec.  3,  1765). 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  111 

fame,  the  political  and  economic  system,  of  which  the  .Maupeou 
parliament  was  ihc  latest  manifestation,  and  which  was  ulti- 
mately responsible  tor  all  c\ils,  intellecUial  and  artistic,  no 
less  than  social.'"' 

Prose  historical  tragedy,  defined  as  "imc  hclle  jiage  histo- 
rique  qui  se  partage  en  un  certain  nombre  de  repos  marques,"  " 
was  to  be  one  of  the  instruments  of  the  great  social  and  artistic 
transformation,  ilis  Kcgiilus  and  Tcrcntia  (1769-70)"  satis- 
fied Diderot's  craving  for  the  "epique  et  gigantesque"  he  asso- 
ciated with  the  Ciolden  Age ;'"  the  realistic  treatment  of  historical 
tragedy  fulfilled  the  [postulates  of  the  theory  of  imitation;  the 
stoicism  of  its  heroes  unmistakably  resembled  that  of  the 
"philosophers"  and  "lay  preachers"  of  Encyclopedism  who  were 
preparing  the  nation  for  the  Age  of  Reason  and  Nature  when 
the  radicals  "were  to  have  their  turn."  "^ 

Merein,  too.  Diderot  went  the  way  of  his  time  and  gener- 
ation, though  ahead  of  most  of  his  contemporaries.  The 
advent  of  prose  historical  drama  had  been  prepared  and  aided 
by  the  interest  in  past  history  which  began  to  be  felt  during 
the  last  years  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV."  Under  its  influence 
the  stage  was  submerged  under  a  flood  of  plays  in  historical 
settings,  ranging  from  comic  operas  in  the  genre  troubadour 
and  comedies  like  Colle's  Partic  de  chasse  de  Henri  II'  to  full- 
fledged  tragedies  with  a  fresh  tinge  of  historical  color,  like 
those  which  the  Patriarch  of  Ferney  contributed  to  the  philos- 
ophic   cause.      In    X'oltaire's    Olyuipie    (given    at    the    Comedie- 

'«Cf.  letter  to  Wilkes,  14  Nov.,  1771,  in  Cru,  Diderot,  p.  477;  to 
Princess  Dashkoff,  April  3,  1771,  xx,  28.  Cf.  also  vi,  403  f.  and  Dide- 
rot's Essai  historique  stir  la  polivr  published  by  Tourneux,  Diderot 
et  Catherine  II  (Paris,  1S99),  p.  91-138.  It  may  be  worth  remember- 
ing that  the  war  which  the  dramatic  authors  waged  against  the 
Comediens  du  Roi  in  the  seventies  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  pre- 
revolutionary  war  on  privilege.  Cf.  viii,  403  and  the  works  of  de 
Lomenie  on  Beaumarchais,  Beclard  on  Mercier,  Lenel  on  Marmontel, 
M.  Pellisson,  Lcs  hommcs  de  Icttrcs  nu  xviiie  siiclc  (Pa.is,  1911). 
ch.  iv;  etc. 

*'  viii,  395.    Cf.  also  M.  Tourneux,  Diderot  et  Catherine  17.  p.  412. 

*'-Cf.  viii,  406.   433.  ^"  Cf .  HI,  4S1,  etc. 

°*To  Sartine,  June,  1770;    xx,   13. 

"Cf.  B.  de  la  Villeherve,  Baculard  d'Arnaud  (Paris,  1920),  pt.  2, 
ch.  3;  Gaiffe,  Le  Drame  en  France  (Paris,  1910),  pt.  3,  ch.  4. 


112  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

Frangaise  in  1764),  in  les  Scythes  (1767),  in  his  "imperial  and 
bourgeoisc"  tragedy  of  1769,  les  Guebres  (the  last  two  never 
played  for  obvious  reasons),  we  witness  a  renewal  of  Diderot's 
influence,  which  had  first  appeared  in  Voltaire's  "drama"  of 
Tancrede  (1759).  All  of  these  plays  possessed  the  very  Ency- 
clopedic qualities  of  universality  and  propagandism : 

"Le  but  du  poete  [Diderot  wrote  with  reference  to  les 
Gueires]  est  general.  II  montre  aux  rois  les  suites  funestes 
de  I'intolerance;  il  preche  aux  hommes  le  respect  de  la 
morale  universelle;  il  les  approche  les  uns  des  autres  par  le 
droit  de  fraternite  qui  les  lie  et  que  la  diversite  des  opinions 
religieuses  ne  doit  jamais  rompre;  il  leur  inspire  le  plus 
grand  mepris  pour  ces  opinions;  il  s'adresse  a  toutes  les 
nations  et  a  tons  les  temps  a  venir"    (viii,  455  f.) 

This  is  not  strange  since  "il  faut  substituer  partout  les  Fran- 
qais  aux  Remains,  la  Seine  ou  le  Danube  a  I'Oronte,  et  les 
Chretiens  aux  Guebres  ou  Perses."  Had  not  Rosenkranz'^ 
written  that  the  Par  ado  xe  shows  Diderot  unaware  of  the  war 
waged  in  the  seventies  by  the  Third  Estate  on  the  other  two, 
it  would  not  have  been  necessary  to  state  that  Diderot  could 
not  but  be  fully  conscious  of  the  political  mission  which  the 
prose  tragedy  inherited  from  its  poetic  predecessor.  What 
Diderot  hid  beneath  his  demand  that  the  tragedy  depict  ideals 
of  conduct  (for  he  informs  us  in  the  Paradoxc  as  elsewhere 
that  he  did  not  aspire  to  the  martyr's  crown), °^  his  disciples 
and  partisans  have  expressed  in  words  and  deeds.  Grimm 
dreamt  of  the  time  when  "les  theatres  deviendront  un  cours 
d'institutions  politiques  et  morales  et  les  poetes  ne  seront  plus 
seulement  des  hommes  de  genie,  mais  des  hommes  d'etat."" 
Even  while  Diderot  was  elaborating  his  Paradoxe,  ]\Iercier 
dilated  upon  "/a  vraic  tragedie,"  "le  drame  neuf  et  vraiment 
philosophique"  that  was  to  serve  "le  poete  legislateur"  as  a 
"tribune  aux  harangues."  '"     It  is  in  the  prose  genre  of  Ic  Shcr'if 

'^^  Rosenkranz,  Diderot's  Lchen   unci   ^Verke.   2d   ed.,   II,   p.   214. 
^=viii,  356,  408;   cf.  xi,  84  and  Corr.  litt..  viii,  462. 
"  Corresp.  litt..  viii,  p.  80. 

■"  S.  Mercier,  Du  tJuOtre  (1773).  Cf.  especially  chapters  xiii, 
xiv,  xxi. 


ACTING  AND  TRAGEDY  113 

that  Mcrcior  wrote  his  "drama"  of  Jeait  Ilcnnuycr  (1772),  the 
"dramc  hi-ro'iquc,"  Childcric  Icr  (1774)  and  his  "piece  natio- 
nale,"  la  Destruction  dc  la  Liguc  (1782),  plays  in  which  one 
discerned  historical  epitomes  of  national  laws  and  mores — "un 
reflet  des  affaires  qui  agitcnt  la  nation,"  "la  maniere  enfin  dont 
nous  envisagions  Ic  trone  et  la  cour,  ct  les  revolutions  qui  en 
emanaient."  And  in  the  same  genre  was  also  that  other  "trag- 
edy" illustrative  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Social  Contract,  the 
famous  Maillard  on  Paris  sauvc,  of  Sedaine,  received  at  the 
Comedie-Francaise  in  1771  but  never  played  there,  not  for  fear 
that  its  success  would  deal  the  death-blow  to  the  tragedy  of 
Racine  and  Voltaire,  as  its  author  fondly  imagined,  but  for 
the  excellent  reason  that,  in  the  words  or  Mercier,  the  accents 
of  genuine  tragedy  can  only  be  heard  in  the  country  in  which 
those  of  liberty  are  not  smothered/'  The  author  of  Ics  ^leii- 
thcromanes  (1772)"  could  only  give  his  approval  to  Mercier 
when  the  latter  blurted  out  the  confession  that  in  the  eyes  of 
the  philosophic  dramaturge, 

"....toutes  les  inegalites  produites  dans  le  gouvernement 
politique  doivent  disparaitre. . .  .car  s'il  travaillait  h.  resserrer 
ces  liens  malheureux  il  serait  barbare  et  deviendrait  le  fau- 
teur  de  la  tyrannie.  II  doit  tendre  au  contraire,  h  retablir 
I'egalite  naturelle,  parce  que  telle  est  la  loi  primitive  fondee 
sur  la  constitution  de  la  nature  humaine"  (Mercier,  Dii 
theatre,  p.  151). 


Like  most  writings  of  Diderot,  the  Paradoxc  is  an  appeal 
to  action.  Diderot's  plea  against  feeling  is  in  reality  directed 
only  against  morbid  and  useless  "sensibility,"  °'  against  the 
show  of  emotion  that  bears  no   relation   to  the   circumstances 

'•*  L.  Giinther,  L'oeuvre  dramatique   de  Sedaine,  p.   279   ff. 

=Mx,  9-19. 

^^  vi,  206  (Jacques  le  Fataliste,  1773).  There  is  also  something 
to  be  said  in  favor  of  the  opinion  of  Miss  E.  F.  Jourdain,  Dramatic 
theory  and  practice  in  France.  1690-1S08  (London,  1921),  p.  78,  174, 
according  to  whom  Diderot's  play  Est-il  bon.  est-il  mrchant  *  contains 
an  undercurent  of  satire  upon  sensiJ)ilitr.  To  be  sure,  "sensibility" 
has  been  since  decried  as  unpractical  quite  often  and  in  works  as 
discrepant  as  Daphnr  and  la  Bataillc  de  dames. 


114  DIDEROT'S    ESTHETIC    NATURALISM 

that  provoke  it  and  is  barren  of  pragmatic  results.  It  is  to  this 
false  sensibilite  that  Diderot  ascribed  the  pernicious  effects 
which  Rousseau  thought  were  the  concomitants  of  dramatic 
representation/"  At  the  same  time,  and  herein  Diderot  shows 
himself  a  disciple  of  the  grands  classiqiies  and  a  precursor  of 
Gautier/"  Flaubert  and  the  neo-realists,  he  inveighed  against 
those  misguided  sentimentalists — their  tribe  increased  mightily 
in  the  seventies — who,  because  they  thought  themselves  pos- 
sessed of  "sentiments"  and  "genius,"  felt  they  could  dispense 
with  the  quest  of  beauty  and  with  social  duties."  Inci- 
dentally, Diderot  completed  the  task  left  unfinished  by  Ra- 
meau,*"  since  he  carried  out  the  doctrine  of  objectivism  to 
an  art  which  had  been  hitherto  ignored  by  it,  thus  proving  once 
more  his  ability  to  think  consequently,  which  is  so  often  denied 
him. 

Called  forth,  in  all  likelihood,  by  the  paradoxical  attitude 
of  the  Rousseauians,  who  doted  on  the  stage  while  decrying  it,*^ 
and  of  the  pseudo-Classic  psittacists,  who  prattled  about  truth 
and  nature  which  they  ignored  in  practice^  the  "paradox"  of 
Diderot  is  the  esthetic  analogue  to  that  of  the  socialist,  who 
professes  to  oppose  competition  and  individualism,  the  battle 
cries  of  his  opponents,  only  to  reaffirm  them  in  what  he  calls 
a  truer  and  higher  sense.  The  "idealism"  and  "Academicism" 
of  Diderot  are  but  the  "realism"  of  tomorrow.  Like  Kant,  like 
Schiller,"  whose  contrast  of  the  "naive"  and  "sentimental"  en- 
larges upon  and  repeats  the  basic  contradiction  of  the  Paradoxe, 
Diderot  held  that  h^'^equilibrium  between  sensibility  and  under- 
standing, destroyed  by  the  lapse  of  man  from  the  natural  estate, 

•*Cf.  Rousseau,  Discours  of  1750;    Lettre  a  d'Alembert.  etc. 

"T.  Luitz,  Die  Aesthetik  von  Th.  Gautier  (Freiburg,  1917?). 
p.  6  ff.  Curiously  enough,  Barbey  d'Aurevilly  (Goethe  et  Diderot, 
Paris,  1S80)  ascribed  this  role  to  Goethe,  whom  he  regarded  as  the 
very  antithesis  of  Diderot. 

"  The  Paradoxe  thus  marks  the  reaction  against  the  current 
represented  by  d'Arnaud,  de  Treogate,  Restif  de  la  Bretonne,  the 
Shandyans  and  the  sensualists  of  the  school   of  Helvetius. 

«'V.  Rameau's  Letter  to  Houdar  de  la  Motte,  Qctober  25,  1727. 
The  parallelism  with  the  Paradoxe  is  most  striking. 

''Rousseau,  Lettre  sur  les  spectacles  (1758);  Nouvelle  Heloise,  2e 
partie,   lettre   17    (1761);    De  VImitation  thcdtralr    (1764). 

«^V.  Basch,  La  poctique  de  Schiller   (Paris,  1911),  2d  ed.,  p.  6  ff. 


ACTING   AND   TRAGEDY  115 

was  in  part  restored  through  the  representation  in  art  of  an 
ideal  world.  "C'est  surtout  lors(iuc  tout  est  faux  qu'on  aimc 
le  vrai,  c'est  surtout  lorsque  tout  est  corrompu  que  le  spectacle 
est  le  plus  epure.  Le  citoyen  qui  se  presente  a  I'entree  dc  la 
comedie  y  laisse  tous  ses  vices  pour  ne  les  reprendre  qu'en 
sortant."  *"  lUit  he  did  not  concede,  with  Mercier,  the  Rous- 
seauian  half  of  whom  obscured  the  Diderotian,"  that  in  the 
Golden  Age  the  virtuous  and  realistic  theatre  is  to  be  a  useless 
and  harmful  thing.  Diderot  rather  resembles  Fenelon"  in  his 
vision  of  an  Ideal  Age,  with  an  Ideal  art,  at  the  end  of  a  period 
of  social  and  artistic  incubation.  For  he  could  not  bear  to  think 
that  Art  might  be  permanently  divorced  from  Nature  and 
Society. 

*-'viii.  402.     Cf.  ii,  392.  vii,  310,  xi,  112;  etc. 
**  L.  Beclard,  S.  Mercier,  p.  175. 

''  V.  the  paper  of  A.  Cherel  on  "L'idee  du  'naturel'  et  le  sentiment 
de   la  Nature   chez  Fenelon,"   in  Rev.   d'hist.   litt.,    (1911),  p.   SlO-826. 


i 


VITA 

Anno  1888  Ikicharcstini,  urbe  Daciae,  natus,  primis  ibi 
interfui  soholis  et  lycealem,  ut  dicunt,  testimonium  adeptus 
sum.  Deinde  anno  1907  Novi  Eboraci  universitatem  Columbiae 
adii,  ubi  studiis  philologiae  ot  philosophiac  incubui  scholasque 
audivi  horum  virorum  optime  de  me  meritorum :  Ayres,  Bal- 
densperger,  D.  Bigongiari,  H.  C.  Brown,  Cattell,  Cohen,  Dewey, 
Fitzgerald,  Gerig,  Gotthcil,  A.  V.  W.  Jackson,  Lanson,  Law- 
rence, Lovejoy,  Montague,  de  Onis,  Prince,  Spiers,  Sturtevant, 
E.  Thorndike,  Todd,  Weeks,  Woodbridge,  Woodworth,  Yo- 
hannan.  Doctissimis  illis  viris  gratias  ago  maximas.  Apud 
universitatem  Columbiae  ad  gradum  Alagistri  in  Artibus  perveni 
a.  1909  post  debitam  adprobationem  thesis  meae  De  a-prioritate 
spatii  ac  temporis  in  philosophia  Kantiana.  Hoc  in  Athenaeo 
officio  praeceptoris  linguarum  Sarmaticarum  functus  sum 
(a.  1916),  necnon  tribus  annis  post  praeceptor  studiosis 
nondum  matriculatis  in  literis  nostrae  aetatis  Gallicis,  Iberi- 
cis,  Dacicis  legi.  Docui  et  in  universitate  Neoeboracensi, 
a.  1921-22.  Tentamina,  notas  et  adversaria  nonnulla  conscripsi 
quae  edita  sunt  in  Columbia  University  Quarterly,  Romanic 
Review,  Journal  of  Philosophy,  etc. 


CONTENTS 

Page 
PREFACE      3 

INTRODUCTORY    REMARKS     5 

THE   DRAMATIC   POEM  AND  THE   "DRAME"    9 

ACTING    AND    HISTORICAL   TRAGEDY    88 


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